


Just for the Holidays

by Fallen_Angel_Meg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Angst, Bottom!Cas, Christmas, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, New Year's Eve, The Holiday, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-09 02:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5522771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallen_Angel_Meg/pseuds/Fallen_Angel_Meg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After going through some tough times, Jess, Castiel's best friend, decides the best thing for him to do is to get away for Christmas. She secretly signs up their shared house on a home exchange website and it doesn't take long for them to get some interest. Castiel ends up trading houses with Sam Winchester, despite his hesitations to do so. So now Castiel has to spend his Christmas alone in Lawrence, Kansas. Which isn't so bad because Castiel is looking for some alone time right now, not wanting to get romantically involved with anyone. That is, until he meets Dean Winchester and things get complicated.<br/><br/><i>Based on the movie The Holiday </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Maybe I should just take the next flight back_ , Castiel thinks to himself. He’s standing in a sea of people around the conveyer belt that will eventually spit out his luggage. His eyes are wandering to the nearest electronic board that informs the status of arriving and departing flights when the buzzing of the conveyer belt sounds. He tears his eyes away from the temptation and watches the flow of bags emerge from the mouth of the belt.  
  
_Maybe this is all one big mistake. I should call Jess…_ Castiel’s so lost in his thoughts that he nearly misses his bag. He lunges forward, knocking into a couple people and pulls it awkwardly off the belt. He murmurs a soft apology and gives a tiny smile to them but receives dirty looks in response. He sighs and shoulders his way through the thick crowd of people.  
  
This is one of, if not, the worst time for travel. Christmas time. Castiel never understood how a season revolving around joy and happiness could be filled with bitter, cold people. It’s only one more strike in his favor of turning around and going back home, where he can sit peacefully in his tiny house and enjoy a good book or something. Alone.  
  
But no, he told Jess he would do this because it was better than the alternative. Having her stare at him with that sad, concerned look in her eyes. He hates that look. Castiel makes his way outside, instantly feeling the difference in temperature. A gust of cold air bites his face and he flinches back from the harshness of it. Stupidly, he packed his coat away in his luggage, not thinking it would be so cold here in Kansas.  
  
Kansas. Who in the right mind goes to Kansas for Christmas if there’s no one there waiting?  
  
Castiel trudges to the curb in search for a cab, hulling his luggage behind him. Another gust of wind slices easily through his thin hoodie and jeans. A shiver runs through him and he longs for the perfect weather of Arizona, where the sun was shining and parkas were far from necessary. This was going to be a long trip.  
  
After fifteen freezing minutes of waiting in the cold, Castiel finally manages to snag a cab. He tosses his luggage in the trunk and dives gratefully into the warmth of the cab, letting out a sigh of content as the heat envelopes his shivering body. The driver's eyes flicker up to meet Castiel’s in the rear view mirror.  
  
“Hey brother, you might want to try a coat sometime,” the man tells him in a southern twang.  
  
“I think I’m aware,” Castiel replies through chattering teeth and the man just laughs as he pulls away from the curb.  
  
“Where to?”  
  
Castiel fumbles to retrieve his phone from his jean's pocket, hands shaking and numb, but succeeds after a moment.  
  
“Um, Lawrence,” he tells the driver before adding the address.  
  
“Lawrence, huh? I got a buddy who lives there. First time to Kansas?” the driver asks after he finishes punching in the address in the GPS.  
  
“Yes, actually,” Castiel says. He’s sure his cheeks would turn red if they weren’t already rosy from the cold already.  
  
“It’s pretty obvious, brother. What brings you?”  
  
Castiel shifts uncomfortably in his seat. It’s an embarrassing reason.  
  
“Well, a friend is responsible for me being here, actually. Thinks I could use a vacation,” he murmurs.  
  
“A vacation? To Kansas?” he snorts. “Where’re you from?”  
  
“Arizona.” Castiel sees the driver, a man with an interesting hat that reminds Castiel of older times and scruffy facial hair, chuckle.  
  
“You came from a place like Arizona to here for vacation?”  
  
“She insisted,” Castiel says flatly, rolling his eyes. Of course, this cab driver is only voicing all the reasons he told Jess this was a terrible idea. He thinks back onto the conversation that started this whole mess.  
  
“Come on, Castiel. You should really take a break from here. It’ll be good for you,” Jess told him.  
  
“Jess, who wants to spend Christmas alone in a place like Kansas? I think I’ll pass,” he retorted.  
  
“Well, you’re going. I’m not taking no for an answer. You _need_ this.”  
  
Castiel shook his head. He should feel offended too. He _needs_ this? What’s that supposed to mean? But that’s just Jess. The curse of having a friend that cares. Jess was always going to lengths to try and make sure he was happy. She worried about him so much. “I still can’t believe you put our house up on a home exchange website. How do you know this person isn’t a psychopath?”  
  
“He seems nice enough to me. Just talk to him. You’ll be helping him out as well as yourself,” she pressed.  
  
“But where are you going to go? Surely you’re not going to stay here with a stranger,” Castiel objected.  
  
But Jess just laughed, “No silly, I’m going to visit my family. You know they’re only a couple hours away.”  
  
And that’s how Jess won. Later that day, Castiel messaged the interested party, a man named Sam Winchester. Apparently, he’s desperate for an escape from his family. Castiel was fully prepared to turn him down, but, as if something possessed him, he made the arrangements. Before he realized what he did, it seemed too late to back out without seeming like an ass. Besides, Sam was really excited for this.  
  
Now here he is, one short cab ride away from his home for the next ten or so days. Perhaps it won’t be so bad. He can take some time to be alone. Isn’t that what he’s been craving anyway? Ever since April, the last girl he dated, he’s wished to be deserted on an island where there wasn’t another soul for miles. Castiel cringes at the thought of her. That’s probably why Jess sent him on this little escape in the first place. She was the one who set him up with April to begin with, so it only seemed fitting for her to try to redeem herself.  
  
April turned out to be completely crazy, although she didn’t start off that way. She seemed kind, sweet and just what Castiel was looking for. He was getting tired of the dating scene and thought maybe Jess hit the jackpot for him. That is, until the first time they slept together. It’s like a switch flipped in her. April got possessive and scary, always on edge and intent on getting one thing from Castiel, and it wasn’t his great personality.  
  
“Do you know Sam Winchester?” The driver’s voice brings Castiel from his thoughts.  
  
“Not personally. Why do you ask?” Castiel replies, bewildered where that question came from.  
  
“I thought I recognized this address. Sam Winchester lives there.”  
  
“You know him?” Castiel tries not to groan. Of course, his driver would know the person he traded houses with.  
  
“Sure do! His brother is my buddy that I mentioned earlier. Maybe you’ll run into him. Tell him Benny says hi,” the driver says.  
  
Castiel nods to him. “I’ll pass on the message if I encounter him.”  
  
Benny laughs, “I think you’ll be seeing him.” Castiel scrunches his eyebrows together at this. What’s that supposed to mean? But he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to know. He turns his eyes to watch the racing scenery passing outside of the car. So dull and bland, as if the world had the color sucked out of it. It’s winter, so shouldn’t there be sparkly snow on the ground, covering everything in a soft white blanket? That’s what Castiel expects winter to look like around here. Looks like he won’t getting any winter photographs. He’s never seen snow in person before, only from pictures, but this is disappointing. Perhaps it’s for the best. He’s heard snow may look pretty, but it brings nothing but trouble.  
  


  


* * *

  
“Hey brother, wakey wakey,” Benny’s voice jerks Castiel from his sleep. He sits up straight, looking around in alarm when he realizes it’s just Benny. He rubs at his eyes, reality slowly coming back to him. “We’re here,” Benny tells him, eyeing him through the rearview mirror.  
  
Right. He’s in Lawrence, Kansas. He quickly rubs a hand over his face, trying to regain more of his consciousness, before pulling his wallet out.  
  
“Sorry. I didn’t realize I fell asleep,” he mutters, pulling out the amount he owes to Benny and hands it over.  
  
“It’s fine. Maybe I’ll be seeing you around…” Benny trails off and it takes Castiel a moment in his sleepiness to realize Benny’s silently asking for a name.  
  
“Castiel. And perhaps,” Castiel shrugs. “It was nice to meet you.”  
  
“You too,” Benny smirks. Castiel opens the door, instantly regretting leaving the warmth of the cab. He hurries around to the trunk, which has been popped open thanks to Benny. He drags the luggage out and starts making his way towards the house, giving a small farewell wave to Benny before he drives off.  
  
Castiel turns and looks at the house. It’s a small, cottage-like house, an older style too. It has a wide porch with an old looking hanging swing that sways gently with each gust of wind that Castiel probably won’t be sitting on because it’ll collapse under his weight.  
  
A gust of cold wind sends Castiel hurrying towards the house. No time for admiration now. He pulls his suitcase up the four steps that lead up to the porch and pauses in front of the door. Now where did Sam say he’d put a key? Castiel glances around, his body starting to shiver. Although he’s standing under the protection of the overhang of the porch, it offers no resistance from the wind.  
  
He looks down at his feet to see the welcome mat. Of course. He steps back, kneeling down to flip over a corner, which reveals a simple silver key. He picks it up, jamming it into the lock and twisting it open before he hurries inside with his suitcase, closing the door tightly behind him and leaning his back against door.  
  
The inside of the house is no warmer though. Please tell me he has a heater, Castiel thinks as he searches along the walls for a thermostat. His eyes spot a small box on the wall across the room and he makes a beeline for it. Sixty five degrees is what it reads. The number alone sends a shiver through Castiel. How are there not icicles hanging from the ceiling? His icy fingers quickly adjust it to a toasty seventy two.  
  
Stuffing his hands into his armpits and hugging his arms close to his chest, Castiel turns to finally get a look at the house. It’s a little cramped, but has a cozy feel to it. The living room has an old, brick fireplace with a small couch seated in front of it. Beside the fireplace, nestled in the corner, is a table with an older looking television.  
  
Castiel wanders around, taking in every little detail. He walks through the open doorway that leads to the kitchen from the living room. It’s small, with just enough room for a fridge, stove, sink and a little counter space. There’s a cutout in the wall that looks over the living room with three barstools, acting as some sort of bar. There’s a door that leads to the backyard, but Castiel isn’t the least bit interested in opening it. The less cold, the better.  
  
He walks back out into the living room and makes his way down a small corridor that has the bathroom, a bedroom, a small laundry room, and stairs that lead to the basement. But he’s not interested in the basement. They kind of creep him out anyways.  
  
Castiel walks back to where his luggage is and pulls it to Sam’s- well, his- bedroom. The first thing his does when he opens the suit case is dig for the warmest sweater he can find. He sheds his pathetic hoodie and t shirt and pulls on a thickly knitted blue sweater that has a zipper running from the top of his chest to the collar. It’s usually worn open, but he zips it up so the collar lies just below his chin. Well, it feels a little better.  
  
He slowly unpacks the rest of his clothes, realizing he might need to do some shopping, or else he’ll be wearing the same four sweaters while he’s here. Just as he’s sliding the empty suit case under the bed, his phone starts to ring. He glances at it and sighs at the name. Jess.  
  
“Hello, Jess,” he greets in a flat voice.  
  
“Hey Castiel! Did you make it there okay?” her bubbly voice asks from the other end.  
  
“Yes, I just finished unpacking,” he tells her, sitting on the creaky bed.  
  
“That’s great! So how is it?” her eagerness has no effect on Castiel, but it does make him smile ever so slightly.  
  
“It’s cold. Very cold.”  
  
She giggles. “Duh, what were you expecting?”  
  
“I don’t know. Not thirty five degrees.”  
  
“Castiel, you realize winter gets a lot colder than thirty five degrees, right?” her voice is dripping with amusement. She’s enjoying every minute of this.  
  
“Jess, I’m from Arizona. I consider sixty degrees cold.” He rolls his eyes, trying to keep a stern voice but ends up laughing.  
  
“I’m sure you’ll get used to it soon enough. And maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll get some snow too!” she tells him enthusiastically as if she’s making a pitch to sell him a house here.  
  
“Perhaps. But isn’t snow a hassle?” he asks.  
  
She hums for a moment before answering. “I think snow is misunderstood. But I suspect you’ll enjoy it. You like the small things in life, Castiel.” He hopes she’s right. Because if it snows and it turns out to be the worst experience ever, this is going to be a miserable trip.  
  
“Well, don’t be a stranger. Call me and tell me what’s going on. Promise?” Jess says and he can almost see her puppy dog eyes staring at him all the way from Arizona.  
  
“Of course. I’ll call you later,” he promises and they say their goodbyes. After hanging up, he looks around the now darkened room. Oh yeah, winter means darkness. He glances at the clock on the nightstand, which reads 5:30. Maybe he’ll go out to town and get something to make for dinner and possibly raid a bookstore, if one is still open.  
  
He heaves himself to his feet and feels his way down the dark hallway, flipping on lights as he goes. He heads straight for the fridge and takes stock of the food Sam left behind, which isn’t much. Not that Castiel would be able to make much of anything. It’s embarrassing to admit, but he isn’t the best cook. Jess has tried time and time again to teach him basic meals, but for whatever reason, they just never turn out as good as hers.  
  
Maybe instead of making things worse, he’ll just eat out. It’ll give him a chance to explore a little bit anyway. Yes, exploring. Definitely not finding reasons to go home. Not at all.  
  
He grabs his trench coat and buttons it up all the way up before making his way out the door, locking it securely behind him. He walks down the sidewalk, burrowing his lips behind the soft collar of his sweater, the cold already making its assault on his skin. As he makes his way along the driveway that runs parallel to Sam’s house to the car, he looks around the deserted neighborhood. There’s not a soul in sight. But why would there be? Only some lunatic would be walking around in the dark with this bitter cold.  
  
He hurriedly sticks the key into the driver side door of the old, beaten down car that has to be from the nineties and unlocks it, ducking inside quickly. He exhales in relief to be out of the wind, only to frown as a white puff escapes his mouth, disappearing after a moment. He can see his breath. He’s never been able to see his breath before.  
  
Without another moment of delay, he starts up the car, cringing as the engine sputters to life, and blasts the heat. He’s going to have to invest in some gloves and a scarf, maybe even a warmer coat.  
  
After waiting for the car to warm up and his fingers to de thaw, which feels like they haven’t been since he left the airport, he backs up out of the driveway and randomly chooses a direction to drive in, hoping it’s the right way to town.  
  
Thankfully, he chose right. Turns out, Sam lives relatively close to Lawrence’s downtown area, which is decked out for the holidays; every tree adorned with strands of soft, white lights, the shops and restaurants looking festive with their holiday inspired decorations hanging in windows and on doors, wreaths with colorful ornaments hanging on lamp posts. He drives around for a while, scouting out the town. It’s actually nice to see. For a town Castiel is sure he’d never hear about ever in his life, it’s a nice little town.  
  
A growl in his stomach reminds him that his purpose was to find somewhere to eat and he starts taking note of any possibilities. But one in particular catches his eye. It doesn’t fit in with the other brick faced establishments. It’s an old, wooden building, like a tavern, with bright lights that announce it as _Harvelle’s Roadhouse_. Before he realizes it, Castiel finds himself turning in the side lot and parking, but he keeps the car running. The place is packed, it looks like. The lot is filled and through the windows Castiel can see bodies packed tightly together at tables and booths.  
  
For a moment, Castiel doubts whether this is really the best place to eat. A bar. All he wants to do is avoid people this entire trip, and a bar can only lead to awkward encounters. The last thing he wants is to have someone try to pick him up. But maybe he’s giving himself too much credit. He thinks of the alternative; going to a sit down restaurant only to be sitting alone and get pity looks all night. Or there’s fast food, but that doesn’t sound good either. No, a bar is the only place where it’s perfectly acceptable to go alone.  
  
He laughs gently to himself, shaking his head. He’s being ridiculous. What was that sudden bout of arrogance he got? No one will try anything on him. It’s not like he’s something extraordinary.  
  
He shuts off the car before he can change his mind and power walks to the Roadhouse without looking too weird. The moment he steps inside, he’s glad he came. Its warmth washes over Castiel and he’s greeted with mouthwatering smells of burgers and barbeque. He sees one, lonely open spot at the bar and hurries through the crowd of people and tables to claim it. The moment he sits down, he’s greeted by an older looking women with soft, brown curls.  
  
“Hey there sweetie, what can I get cha?” She has a slight twang in her speech that vaguely reminds him of Benny and he smiles to her.  
  
“Do you have a menu?”  
  
“Here ya go,” she says, immediately handing him a menu that seems to appear out of thin air. “If I can make a suggestion, the burgers are excellent, so I recommend that,” she says with a small smirk.  
  
Castiel doesn’t bother to look over the menu for any other choices. “I’ll trust your judgement then. Everything except onions, please. Oh, and no bacon,” he tells her before handing the menu back. She takes it, looking surprised.  
  
“No bacon? I know someone who might faint if he heard you say that,” she laughs, “but alright. Do you want anything to drink?” Castiel raises his eyebrows gently at her remark but gives an awkward laugh before ordering a beer. She nods, disappearing to place his order. He looks around the place, appreciating the atmosphere it gives off. Music and the sound of laughter and chatter fill the air. A moment later, the woman returns, setting a bottle in front of him.  
  
“You don’t seem familiar. You new here?” she asks as she starts taking care of other drink orders. Castiel groans inwardly. Of course she would know most of her costumers, given this place seems pretty popular in a smaller town.  
  
“Yeah, but just visiting for the holidays,” he says, taking a small sip from the bottle.  
  
“Ah, you got family here or somethin’?”  
  
“Well, not exactly. Just trying out something new this year,” he murmurs, keeping his eyes down.  
  
“You mean to tell me you don’t know anyone here?” her voice is disbelieving and Castiel grimaces. Maybe he should learn to lie or just not overshare.  
  
“Not exactly,” he admits, once again wishing he could just make up a different story. He glances up to see the woman looking at him thoughtfully. Castiel looks away, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze.  
  
A hand enters his peripheral vision and he follows it back to her. “My name is Ellen Harvelle. I’m the owner of this bar,” she says.  
  
Castiel looks at her hand for a moment, not sure how to react before he takes it and gives it a firm shake. “Castiel Novak. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”  
  
She gives him a sweet smile, one that reminds him of a mother, before she drops his hand and goes back to her artful work of juggling different glasses and alcohol and mixing. “Now you know someone, Castiel,” she tells him as she shakes up some concoction.  
  
“That’s very kind of you, Ellen. You have a lovely establishment, by the way,” he tells her, taking another sip at his drink.  
  
“Thanks honey. I’ve been running this bar for many years now. I won’t tell you the exact number though,” she says, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “But it’s not just me. My daughter Jo helps out a lot,” she says, pointing over to a younger blonde that looks around Castiel’s age, maybe slightly younger, and the spitting image of her mother.  
  
Ellen doesn’t stay much longer to talk. Her attention is needed filling the ever present drink orders and grabbing plates of food to have Jo deliver them to their respective owners. Castiel doesn’t mind though. He’s grateful just to people watch and enjoy the relaxed atmosphere while he sips at his beer. It’s not too much later that a picture perfect burger is placed in front of him with piping hot fries. He digs in eagerly, a soft moan escaping his throat as the first bite explodes across his taste buds. Ellen was right. This burger is amazing.  
  
“What did I tell ya?” Ellen’s voice startles Castiel out of his dreaming about the burger.  
  
“It’s amazing,” he tells her, hoping she didn’t hear the noise he inadvertently made upon having his first bite.  
  
“We have a sort of burger expert around here, so it better be good. I’m tired of him getting picky over the recipe,” she tells him with a small roll of her eyes.  
  
“Tell him he doesn’t have to change a thing,” Castiel says as he takes another hungry bite.  
  
Ellen’s eyes flicker around for a moment as if looking for someone before settling back on Castiel, contemplating something. Before he can ask if something is wrong, she speaks up. “You can probably tell him yourself. It’s not the same coming from me- and trust me, I’ve told him thousands of times, but my opinion doesn’t count anymore.”  
  
Castiel pauses. He’s not really up to talking to anyone more than Ellen right now, especially with this masterpiece to enjoy. “I doubt my review would make much of a difference,” he says nonchalantly. But Ellen just waves her hand dismissively at him.  
  
“Don’t be ridiculous. I think- oh hey, Dean,” Ellen is saying before she cuts herself off with a greeting to someone else. Castiel follows her eyes to a man standing a couple people over from him. For a moment Castiel is struck by how attractive he is. Even though the lighting is dimmed and it’s hard to make out many features, Castiel can tell he must be breath taking under brighter lights.  
  
“Hey Ellen. The usual, please,” he hears the man huff as he settles himself on a bar stool. Ellen nods, eyes disapproving as she sets a glass with a dark colored drink in front of him. Must be some sort of whiskey. This Dean immediately raises the glass to his slightly chapped lips and takes a drink before setting it down with a sigh. His eyes flicker briefly and meet Castiel’s and he realizes he’s been staring at this stranger. He drops his gaze to his burger before picking it up and taking another bite, hoping and praying that Dean didn’t notice. He just focuses on chewing and the various flavorings mingling within his mouth.  
  
To his relief, if the guy saw him staring, he doesn’t say anything. But Ellen sure does. “So Dean, you’ve got a positive review on your burger.”  
  
“Oh, is that so?” Dean’s voice is a mixture of amusement and pretending to be genuinely curious, as if he couldn’t look to his right and see who Ellen is referring to. Castiel just keeps his eyes down. Do not engage. Chew. Swallow. Drink. Chew. Swallow.  
  
“I told you they were fine,” Ellen grunts before venturing away to attend to some other customers. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the seat next to him empty only to be filled with Dean sliding into it.  
  
“Good burger, huh?”  
  
The voice makes a shiver go down Castiel’s back and he realizes he’s still bundled up in his coat from the cold. He probably looks like a freak. He nods in response, barely able to make words leave his mouth. “Yes, it’s quite excellent.”  
  
“You cold or something? Take off your coat and stay awhile,” Dean teases, but it only makes Castiel tense up. He was not anticipating interacting with such a good looking individual, or at least one that would have such an immediate effect on him.  
  
“I am cold, actually,” he says, risking a look to Dean who’s watching him with curious eyes.  
  
Dean shrugs after a moment, turning his attention back to his drink, which he takes another long pull of. The glass is nearly empty now. “Guess not everyone is like Elsa.”  
  
Castiel chews on a fry, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. “Who?”  
  
Dean turns to study Castiel’s face and then a smirk turns the corner of his mouth upwards. “You don’t know who Elsa is?” Castiel shakes his head slowly and Dean chuckles. “Well, you might be the only person then.”  
  
“I’m assuming this Elsa person is fond of the cold,” Castiel murmurs, taking a bite of his burger.  
  
“The cold doesn’t bother her,” Dean clarifies, as if makes much of a difference. Seems all the same to Castiel. He nods and turns his attention back to burger. He just needs to finish and get out of here as soon as he can. “I’m Dean, by the way,” he says after a moment of silence.  
  
“Castiel.”  
  
“That’s an interesting name.”  
  
“I know. I’ve heard.” He really has.  
  
“It wouldn’t happen to be based off the angel Cassiel, would it?”  
  
This pulls Castiel up short. No one’s ever made that connection without him having to explain it. Who was this Dean character? “Yes, it would actually,” Castiel says slowly. “How did you…?” Castiel trails off, still baffled.  
  
Dean just shrugs. “I know a thing or two.” He pauses a moment before a smile slowly spreads across his face and his eyes glitter with mischief. Chew. Swallow. Chew. Swallow. “Did it hurt?”  
  
Castiel freezes for a moment at those three seemingly innocent words then swallows down the last bits of food. He feels his face get hot as a blush is no doubt coloring his cheeks. This is the warmest he’s felt since arriving. Get it together, Castiel. Gently wiping his mouth with his napkin, he turns to Dean, hoping that his blush isn’t as apparent as it feels. This is exactly what he was avoiding. He didn’t even need to hear the rest of the cheesy pick up line to know where Dean was headed.  
  
“Look Dean, you seem like a nice individual, but I came to have a meal privately. I needed some time to clear my head, and not to be rude, but I’d like to keep it that way.” He keeps his voice even and steady, but not demeaning. Because as much as he wants to play along with the dumb pickup line, he shouldn’t. The last thing he needs is this trip getting complicated by an alluring stranger. It’s only day one, besides. If things went wrong tonight, it would take a lot to convince him to stay.  
  
Castiel sees the different emotions cross Dean’s face. Surprise, confusion, disappointment, troubled, defeat. It makes Castiel feel bad because Dean actually looks hurt from the rejection. As Castiel is watching all of this, he can study his features so much more clearly now. His green eyes that, even through the dimness, seem to radiate light. The light freckles that pepper his face. The stubble that lines his jaw. Damn, he’s making it hard to turn him down. And Castiel hates the little flutters at tickle at his stomach caused by the man in front of him. Everything in Castiel wants to give in. But he shouldn’t.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Dean murmurs softly, finishing off his drink. He motions for another from Ellen, who regretfully refills his glass. “Enjoy the burger,” he says before sliding off the bar stool and disappearing into the sea of people. Castiel sighs gently, watching him go before turning back to his food. He feels Ellen’s eyes on him and wonders vaguely if she overheard their exchange.  
  
He decides he’s had his fill anyway, finishing off his drink and pulling out his wallet. “Leaving already, sweetie?” Ellen asks.  
  
“Yeah. It’s been a tiring day,” he says, laying a twenty dollar bill on the counter. “Keep the change.” Even though his drink and food came out to about ten dollars, maybe less, he felt she deserved it.  
  
“Listen, I’m sorry about Dean. He doesn’t always say the right things at the right times,” she apologizes. Castiel just nods, unsure what to say. “But in any case, thanks for stopping by. I hope you’ll drop by again soon?” she says, giving him that soft, motherly smile again.  
  
“I will. Thanks, Ellen,” he gives her a gentle smile before making his way out of the Roadhouse, but not before searching the bar for Dean. He doesn’t see him anywhere. Well, at least he ended that heart break before it started. It’s for the best.  
  
He makes his way back out into the cold and to the car, but his mind is still on Dean. Part of him wants to run back inside and seek out Dean, to explain what a weird place he’s in right now, that it’s nothing personal. Or maybe that he wants to hear the rest of the cheesy pick up line, to know more about who this Elsa is and maybe about why his burger tastes so heavenly.  
  
But no, he just can’t. There’s no way a handsome guy like Dean would want anything other than a quick fling with him. It’s the perfect recipe for heart break on Castiel’s end and he would be left pining like some pathetic soul. He just can’t do it. The whole point of this trip was to stay away from romantic interests. To get alone time, to recover from his past so he can start new when he returns. Dean may be a pretty face, but nothing good can come of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note: not sure if it's entirely "spoilers" but this chapter contains some vague information about season 1, episode 5 of The Walking Dead. I just wanted to warn people just in case (:

Castiel only gets lost a few times driving back to Sam’s house. He should’ve paid more attention when he randomly took a direction to find town. But after twenty minutes of circling, he finally makes it back. He hurries inside, eager to step into the warmth of the house. But there’s no warmth. Puffs of white breath float from his mouth as he shivers. Why hasn’t the heat kicked on yet? Castiel flips on a lamp on his way to the thermostat. Sixty four. It’s gotten colder since he left. He sees a small switch at the bottom that has three options- air conditioning, off, and heat. The tiny knob was centered on ‘off’. How stupid of him. He clicks it to ‘heat’ and listens for any kind of movement or sound to indicate he did anything. But nothing. It is an older house, though. Maybe it needed a few minutes to activate.  
  
Shrugging off his trench coat, he heads to the bed room to change into some warm pajamas. Which are actually far from warm. His black sweat pants, while lined with a soft material, doesn’t offer the insulation he’s seeking at the moment. He tosses on a plain gray t shirt but decides to throw his blue sweater over it for added warmth until the house heats up.  
  
It’s when he wanders back into the living room that he gets an idea. The fireplace! He quickly shuffles over to it, grabbing a couple logs from a small, iron stand by the hearth and arranges them. It takes a couple minutes before he gets a decent flame going.  
  
Once he’s satisfied with the fire, he heads to the kitchen in search for something to drink. He’s debating between hot tea or a glass of wine. While the wine sounds good at the moment, he decides tea would be more practical. He could use all the warmth he can get. He starts a pot of water and then flops onto the couch to wait.  
  
Grabbing the remote, he turns on the TV. Turns out Sam has a Netflix. This brings a smile to his face. This might just be the answer to what he’ll do with his little holiday vacation. If Jess was here right now, she would snatch away the remote and shove him out the door. But thankfully, she isn’t. Castiel almost wants to call her just to rub it in her face that even though she sent him here, he can do whatever he wants.  
  
It takes him until his tea is ready to decide what show to watch. The Walking Dead or Breaking Bad? But as he settles in the couch next to the crackling fireplace, buried under two blankets with his chilled fingers curled gratefully around his steaming mug of tea, he decides on The Walking Dead. What could be better than zombies around Christmas time?  
  
So that’s what Castiel does. He allows Netflix to play episode after episode, muttering in annoyance when the message, “Are you still watching?” pops up. Of course he is. Why would Netflix ask such a ridiculous question?  
  
He’s in the middle of his fifth episode when he hears a low rumbling outside. He pauses the TV and listens closely. Nothing. Just the faint whistle from the wind outside. He shrugs gently and resumes the show. It can’t be more than a few minutes later that there’s a loud knocking at the door, startling Castiel out of his skin.  
  
Who in the world could that be? He quickly checks his phone for the time. 2:24 am. Who is knocking at his door at 2:24 in the morning? Castiel’s heart rate picks up as scenarios of serial killers and burglars run through his mind. Then the pounding starts, making Castiel jump again. He pauses the episode and slowly gets up, making his way towards the door.  
  
“C’mon Sammy! Open up, ‘s freezing out ‘ere!” a chattering voice calls through the door, slurring the words ever so slightly. Castiel relaxes a little. Whoever this is must be someone Sam knows, although they sound drunk. He pauses at the door, hand resting against the handle, unsure whether to open it or not. Maybe if he waits long enough, they’ll just wander off.  
  
“I know you’re in there. Don’t make me break this fucking door down!” the voice growls from the other side, speaking with enough conviction that makes Castiel believe he actually will. He quickly turns the handle and pulls the door open to see the visitor standing as if he was about to ram the door down.  
  
Castiel stiffens as he recognizes the stranger. It’s Dean from the Roadhouse. Dean slowly looks over Castiel, and then, his drunken brain registering the information after five seconds, straightens up, confusion contorting his features.  
  
“Wha? You’re not Sam.”  
  
“Dean? What are you doing here?”  
  
Dean snorts and laughs. “What the hell are _you_ doing here? This is my brother’s house!”  
  
“Sam left. He’s, uh, not in the state at the moment,” Castiel explains slowly. This is awkward. Did Sam not tell his brother he was leaving? Dean’s studying Castiel’s face and he can see the wires slowly connecting in his brain.  
  
Dean shakes his head after a moment, clearly unable to grasp what he’s been told. “Look, can I come in? It’s a tad chilly.” Which is an understatement. From the moment Castiel opened the door, icy fingers chilled his body that he’s spent so long warming up. He steps to the side with a nod, allowing Dean entry. Dean shuffles in and immediately goes for the fireplace and starts warming his hands. Castiel shuts the door and faces Dean, feeling nervous as he stands too close to the fire, hands outstretched. Castiel isn’t sure how much alcohol Dean’s had, but anyone who’s been drinking should not be trusted around a fire.  
  
“You’re name was… Cas… Cas…” Dean struggles with the name. Either he can’t pronounce the rest in his shivery, loopy state or he’s forgotten. Probably the latter.  
  
“Castiel,” he finishes for him.  
  
Dean snaps his fingers, turning to face him with a dopey smile. “Ah, that’s right. The angel. Ima call you Cas.” Although Castiel doesn’t want to condone his behavior right now, this makes him smile. _Cas_. Dean has a nickname for him. And the words sound so irresistible slipping from between those chapped, pink lips.  
  
Castiel mentally slaps himself to focus. Now’s not the time for fantasies. “What are you doing at Sam’s house in the middle of the night?”  
  
“I always crash here. Home is too far away, not that I wanna be there right now anyway,” Dean smirks, flopping onto the couch. “Sammy usually picks me up from The Roadhouse when I’ve had too much to drink, but he wasn’t answering his phone.”  
  
Castiel furrows his brow. “So how did you get here then?”  
  
This prompts a laugh from Dean. “I drove. What else? I can’t fly.” And Dean leans closer to whisper, “We’re not all angels, ya know.”  
  
Castiel’s eyes widen. “You _drove_ here? Like this?” He waves his hand, motioning to all of Dean as if it explains everything.  
  
“Well, yeah,” Dean answers, clearly not getting at why this bothers Castiel so much.  
  
“Dean, you could’ve gotten into serious trouble, let alone a horrific accident,” Castiel pinches the bridge of nose. It’s like the universe is dead set on testing his limits with this excursion to Kansas.  
  
“Well, I didn’t. Isn’t that what matters?” Castiel looks up at him to see Dean giving him that flirty smirk again.  
  
He crosses his arms, more out of cold than anything else, but it helps him appear stern anyway. “Why didn’t you just have someone drive you? Called a cab? Anything?”  
  
Dean rolls his eyes. “Please. All I get are offers to drive me home. But I just don’t want them to…” Dean trails off. Castiel isn’t sure what he means by this, but Dean doesn’t seem keen on sharing, so he doesn’t ask. “Would you sit down already? You need to lighten up a little,” Dean says suddenly, motioning for Castiel to join him on the couch. Given the advances Dean has put on him already, he isn’t sure whether this is really a good idea. Especially since he’s not confident in his self-control at the moment. But he complies. Sitting is innocent enough, right?  
  
“Now, I would _love_ an explanation as to where the hell my brother is,” Dean smiles, leaning back into the couch cushions, staring at Castiel with dazed eyes. Castiel swallows. This is so embarrassing. Dean is going to think he’s some loser and laugh at him. And it’ll be then that he truly loses interest in Castiel.  
  
“Sam and I exchanged homes for the holiday,” Castiel says, avoiding Dean’s gaze.  
  
“You traded homes? As in he’s at your house right now?” Dean could not be more perplexed by the concept. Not that Castiel could blame him. He was the same way when Jess first told him.  
  
“Yes. Sam is currently in Arizona right now.”  
  
Dean’s green eyes widen and he sits up straight. “Arizona? That’s pretty far! Why did he not tell me this?” Then Dean’s fumbling into his pocket and eventually comes up with a phone. He starts trying to push buttons in a failed attempt to dial a number and muttering curse words under his breath when Castiel reaches forward and eases the phone from his hands.  
  
“I think it might be best not to drunk dial anyone, Dean,” Castiel tells him gently.  
  
Dean snorts. “You call this drunk? Please. Takes more than a couple whiskeys to get me drunk. Now give it back. I need to call Sam.”  
  
“You can in the morning. Right now, you should get some sleep.” Castiel holds the phone tight in his hand, watching Dean with a steady gaze. Dean shrugs though and looks around, not looking the least bit interested in sleeping. Castiel sees his eyes rest on the TV that still had The Walking Dead paused.  
  
“The Walking Dead, huh? Doesn’t seem very in-the-holiday-spirit,” Dean chuckles, looking back to Castiel, who just shrugs.  
  
“Zombies can be festive.”  
  
“What are you doing up this late watching zombies anyway? They help clear your mind?” Dean leans back, watching Castiel with an amused look. Then Castiel realizes Dean’s referencing how he rejected him at the bar.  
  
He bites his lip gently, feeling the blush from earlier return to his cheeks. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to come across rude.”  
  
“Hey man, don’t worry about it. I didn’t think it would work anyway,” Dean shrugs gently. Castiel tilts his head gently in confusion. If he didn’t think Castiel would follow through, why did he try? He studies Dean, who is studying him right back. He stares into those deliciously green eyes, whose pupils are dilated into large, black saucers, and the fluttering inside him returns. He has this sudden urge to close the space between him and Dean, to stroke a couple finger tips across the stubble that trails his jaw line, to run his fingers through Dean’s light brown hair that has somehow become puffier since he saw him in the bar. He’s never met someone who’s had this effect on him before, and it terrifies him. But he had made himself a vow that he would not get involved for a while.  
  
Honestly, Dean would be easier to resist if he was coming off like a jerk, but if his reaction to rejection in the bar speaks anything about who this Dean guy is, it’s that he is an honest, good soul. Even now, despite Dean’s flirty nature, he hasn’t made one advance towards Castiel, keeping a decent amount of space between them.  
  
“I wanted to finish watching this episode. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like,” Castiel offers.  
  
A grin appears on his face in response. “I’d be honored to.” Castiel smiles back gently and stands up.  
  
“Would you like anything to drink?” He isn’t sure why he offered. Although Dean’s still intact it seems, surely another drink is a bad idea. Castiel starts to retract his offer when Dean interrupts him.  
  
“Sam keeps the good stuff in the cabinet next to the fridge,” Dean tells him as he kicks off his shoes and starts making himself comfortable on the couch. Castiel retrieves a bottle of what he’s assuming is ‘the good stuff’. It’s whiskey. Dean must really like the stuff. He brings the bottle with two glasses and sets it on the small coffee table.  
  
“You know, I never got your full name,” Dean says.  
  
“Castiel Novak,” he tells him as he pours the dark liquid into one glass and hands it out to Dean, who snickers and reaches for the bottle instead. Castiel starts to object but then stops himself, keeping the glass for himself and sits back into the couch. “You must be Dean Winchester, then.”  
  
“The one and only,” Dean says, taking a pull from the bottle. Castiel follows his lead and takes a sip. It’s strong stuff and it makes Castiel wonder what is going on in Dean’s life that he is drowning in the stuff. Without anything more spoken, Castiel starts up the episode again.  
  
It’s not long before both of them develop a sort of drinking game, drink every time a walker gets bashed in the head, drink every time Shane and Rick argue, drink every time they have to make a stressful decision. They both comment on what’s happening on the screen and what they think should happen with small arguments arising from their differing opinions.  
  
“Shane is trying too hard to be the alpha of the group,” Castiel mutters.  
  
“Or maybe Rick is being too arrogant with his leadership,” Dean counters.  
  
“He pointed a gun at Rick, Dean.”  
  
“Okay, I’ll give you that.”  
  
“They shouldn’t just leave Jim, it’s cruel,” Castiel says.  
  
“It’s what the man wants. Why argue with it? Besides, he’s going to turn eventually,” Dean argues. And they go back and forth the whole episode. But despite their arguing, Castiel finds himself smiling. How quickly he has let his guard down with Dean.  
  
By the time the episode ends, Castiel’s head is fuzzy and he clicks the TV off, leaving the fireplace as the only flickering source of light.  
  
“Wow, that ending was pretty intense,” Castiel says dazedly.  
  
“We could watch anoher,” Dean says, the slurring of his words a little more noticeably.  
  
“We might get alcohol poisoning if we do, Dean,” Castiel chuckles as his eyes sweep over Dean’s fire lit features. The shadows drawn across his face make his green eyes stand out in the dark room, accenting his jaw line and cheek bones. He wants Dean. So bad.  
  
The gears in Castiel’s head start turning as he thinks of some sort of loophole through his own vow he made. What are the chances that he’ll actually run into Dean after all this? Now that Dean knows Sam is gone, he won’t be coming back around to the house. And although Castiel doesn’t like the thought, he could avoid going to The Roadhouse, since it’s apparent Dean visits there frequently for one reason or another. Maybe he can get away with this one night and be done before it starts. This is the logic that his alcohol infused mind decides to go with.  
  
“Dean, would it be too forward of me to kiss you?” The words are falling out of Castiel’s mouth before he has time to think about what he’s asking.  
  
The surprise on Dean’s face is evident and he raises his eyebrows, as if unsure he heard Castiel correctly or something his intoxicated mind made up. “I thought you...”  
  
Castiel sighs, leaning back into the couch, a small shiver going through him. “I don’t know. I know I shouldn’t but…” Castiel drags his eyes back up to Dean’s face. His thoughts are a sloppy mixture of rational and irrational battling over what to do.  
  
“But?” Dean presses.  
  
“I don’t know. It’s not like I’m going to see you again. It’s actually kind of exciting, you know? Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad,” Castiel murmurs mostly to himself.  
  
Dean frowns for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Exactly.” A smile spreads across his face, his eyes getting that mischievous sparkle in them like they did back at the bar. “Ya know, I always wondered what it was like to kiss an angel.”  
  
This makes Castiel laugh; an honest laugh. “Are angel pick-up lines the only thing you got?”  
  
“Only for you.”  
  
Castiel’s heart thumps wildly in his chest and he feels the air get sucked out of his lungs. He wants to form words, some sort of response, but can’t. He isn’t sure if it’s due to the whiskey or Dean himself. Maybe it’s for the best; he would say something stupid to make Dean change his mind. So instead, he scoots towards Dean, who has already inclined himself closer to Castiel. He leans forward, pausing just before Dean’s lips, waiting for some sort of okay. But rather than answering, Dean closes the space between them, pressing his warm lips against Castiel’s.  
  
Castiel isn’t sure what he was expecting. Raging passion, sloppy tongue and drunken lips mashing together in the most ungraceful manner possible. But he gets none of that. It’s soft and gentle, Dean reaching up to cradle Castiel’s cheek, everything so controlled. They part for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes before Castiel can’t take it and reconnects their lips, this time with a little more passion. They shift on the couch so that their bodies aren’t reaching over oceans to touch each other. Castiel’s tongue is faintly tracing Dean’s lips before Dean opens his mouth and their kiss deepens. Castiel lets out a small moan and Dean swallows it up, lips moving more eagerly against his.  
  
He slowly strays from Dean’s lips, planting gentle kisses along his jaw line and making his way down Dean’s neck. Dean moans, lifting his chin so Castiel can get better access.  
  
“Cas,” Dean chokes out.  
  
Castiel pauses in his kisses and murmurs against the side of Dean’s neck, “Yes, Dean?”  
  
“Are… are you sure about this?”  
  
Castiel pulls back to stare into Dean’s lust filled eyes and gently lays his hand against Dean’s cheek. “No, but I want it. I want you, Dean.” He sees Dean swallow and it makes Castiel want to go back to his exploration of Dean’s neck.  
  
“Okay, Cas.” Then Dean reunites their lips without any more delay. And that’s about the time that Castiel loses himself completely in the mind numbing haze that is Dean Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed (: More to come soon!  
> [My tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

Dean’s eyes crack open only to be shut tightly as sunlight streams unwelcomingly into them. He turns over on the bed, back to the window, and snuggles into the pillow. Damn, Sam’s house is freezing. Heater must’ve gone out again. As if by instinct, he scoots closer to the middle of the bed to seek out some warmth. But there’s none. He opens his eyes again to confirm that he is alone in the bed. No Castiel in sight. Dean sits up slowly, shivering as the blankets fall away from his exposed skin and the cold makes its claim on him.  
  
He swings his legs out of bed, wincing as the cold wood flooring freezes his feet and he grabs his boxers and t-shirt that’s been patiently waiting for him after being carelessly tossed on the floor last night.  
  
Last night…  
  
He slips into his clothes and wanders down the hall. He finds the subject of his search standing in the kitchen fumbling with a coffee pot. Dean smiles to himself and strolls into the kitchen. “Mornin’, angel.”  
  
Castiel jumps at his voice and looks over his shoulder to Dean and tosses a hesitant smile at him. “Good morning, Dean.”  
  
“Early riser?” Dean asks, eyeing the clock on the stove that reads 7:43 am. Normally, Dean wakes up around this time anyway for work, but he assumed that because this is Cas’ vacation, he would sleep in. Dean was actually worried he would be the one waking Cas when he got up.  
  
“Sometimes.” Castiel turns back to fumble around with the coffee maker. Dean chuckles and steps forward, gently moving Cas’ hands away and fixes it so that the coffee starts brewing.  
  
“I keep telling Sam he needs a new coffee maker, but he’s so stubborn. He’s grown an attachment to this old thing,” Dean leans against the counter.  
  
“Maybe he just likes what he likes,” Castiel shrugs before turning his attention to a plastic bag of bagels. “Would you like one?” he asks, looking over to Dean.  
  
“Please,” Dean nods, flashing him a smile. He withholds a chuckle as Cas’ face turns a light shade of pink and focuses on the bagels. “I had fun Netflix and chilling with you last night.”  
  
This makes Castiel drop the bagel that he was trying to pry apart and Dean smiles triumphantly.  
  
“Dean, I… You should know I never do stuff like that,” Castiel says, shoving the two bagels in the toaster and facing him, the blush still prominent on his face.  
  
Dean chuckles. “I’m very much aware, Cas.”  
  
Castiel’s expression looks horrified as he’s probably remembering the same thing as Dean. Every so often, Castiel would pause their kissing to whisper “I never do this, I never do this. This is crazy, I never do this.” Dean found it adorable. He would just laugh and stroke his fingers along Cas’ cheek or through his hair and, and as if pressing a button, Castiel would eagerly reconnect their lips or kiss some other part of Dean.  
  
“Oh Dean, I’m so sorry. You probably think I’m insane.” Castiel drops his eyes, and giving a small shake of his head. Dean steps forward and gently lifts his chin so Cas has to look into his eyes.  
  
“Far from it, Cas.” He’s mesmerized by Castiel’s incredibly blue eyes, wanting to stare into them all day. For one second, his eyes flicker down to Castiel’s lips and he wants to lean forward and press his softly against them, but instead he steps back. Castiel’s made it clear that he wanted nothing more than last night. Kisses are no longer a possibility. To distract himself from those inviting pink lips, Dean busies himself with fetching two mugs from the cabinet.  
  
“You know, even though you might think you sounded crazy, I appreciate it.” Dean says as he watches the coffee slowly fill the pot.  
  
“What do you mean?” Castiel sounds confused, and even though Dean isn’t looking at him, he knows he’s doing that head tilt and eye squint whenever doesn’t understand something.  
  
“I appreciate you laying it all out there. It makes it easier, you know? No miscommunication, no hurt feelings.” Dean explains as all the other one night stands he’s had flash through his mind, all of them ending in heartbreak, always from the other person’s side, of course. And Dean hates being the cause of heartbreak, but it always seems to happen. “I just have a bad track record of… misleading people. I just hurt them in the end,” he adds quietly, mostly to himself.  
  
Castiel is silent for a moment before he speaks. “Don’t worry, Dean. I am not going to fall in love with you. There will be no hurt feelings.”  
  
“Great. That takes the pressure off,” Dean laughs, but something in his chest feels tight. He pushes the feeling away and pours the mugs with coffee. As he walks Cas’ mug to him, the toaster pops the bagels up. Castiel swipes them and quickly spreads cream cheese over the toasted surface before handing Dean his bagel.  
  
He settles himself on a stool by the half wall that serves as Sam’s table with Castiel following his lead. They both sprinkle a little bit of sugar into their coffee and take a sip, sighing in unison at the warmth of it.  
  
“So enlighten me, why did you decide to do this home exchange thing anyway?” Dean asks, taking a bite out of his bagel.  
  
Castiel hesitates, swallowing his bite of bagel before answering. “My roommate back in Arizona actually made me do it. She insisted I needed to get away.”  
  
Dan raises his eyebrows. “Why not just take a road trip or something?”  
  
Castiel sighs. “Because Jess is… Jess. She thought being in a place that was like a home was better than a hotel room.”  
  
“Why did you decide to go? It is your decision, anyway. Running from something?” Dean glances over to Cas who is staring down at his bagel as if all the answers are written in the cream cheese.  
  
“Not so much running. Just had to get away. I’ve been having… an unlucky series of events when it comes to dating. It just gets exhausting, you know?”  
  
Dean knows. And a small part of him hopes that he isn’t just one more unlucky event to happen to Castiel. “What about your family? Don’t you want to spend the holidays with them?”  
  
Castiel shakes his head slowly. “Jess is my only family. And she deserves a break from me.”  
  
Dean presses his lips together tightly to keep the words that threaten to escape from his mouth. He wants to give him some sort of comfort, to let him know that no one needs ‘a break’ from him. The silence stretches on between them and Dean realizes he hasn’t said anything at all. “I think Sam’s heater is busted again. I can fix it for you so you don’t become a human icicle,” is what he settles with saying.  
  
“That explains a lot,” Castiel says with a visible shiver. “But it’s okay. It won’t affect me much longer.”  
  
Dean smirks. “Why? You take a tip from Elsa?” Since Castiel’s unaware of the movie _Frozen_ , Dean’s been trying to throw little references out there just to see the adorable way he tilts his head in confusion, which is exactly what he does.  
  
“You’ve mentioned this person multiple times now. I do not understand that reference,” Castiel says.  
  
Dean chuckles and shakes his head. “Look it up, Cas. Shouldn’t be too hard to find.”  
  
Castiel narrows his eyes at Dean “No, I did not get advice from this Elsa person. I won’t be staying too much longer, so it would be unnecessary to fix the heater for my sake.”  
  
Dean nearly chokes on his coffee. “What? You’re leaving already? Didn’t you just get here?” He tries to not sound completely alarmed and disappointed.  
  
Cas nods, avoiding Dean’s eyes. “Yes. I didn’t think things through and…” he trails off. A thousand protests perch on Dean’s lips. It’s so ridiculous. He just met the guy last night, he shouldn’t be caring this much. It was one night, one fling. It was over before it started. Done.  
  
“Man, I must’ve made quite an impression on ya,” Dean winks at Castiel, who gets flustered. Dean hopes this hides or distracts Cas from seeing his true feelings on the matter, even if he wasn’t sure what exactly those were.  
  
“It’s not about you,” he says a little too quickly and Dean raises an eyebrow at him. He sighs. “From the moment I got here, I kinda knew I would be leaving soon. You had no influence on this decision.” Cas speaks like a robot, voice clean of emotion.  
  
Dean finishes off his bagel and coffee before standing up. “Well, I better get out of your hair then so you can pack. Besides, I got work.” He doesn’t wait for a response before making his way back to Sam’s room. He smirks at the sight; bed in disarray, articles of clothing scattered about the floor, small dents in the wall from where the headboard was repeatedly bashed into. It’s too bad Castiel will most likely erase any and all traces of last night. Dean dresses himself, making a mental note to let it slip to Sam of the activities that were held in his bed. Sammy deserves it for flaking out on him. This is just payback.  
  
Dean meanders his way back through the house, taking his time because the thought of leaving and never seeing Cas again doesn’t sit well with him. He finds him cleaning up their dishes, fully concentrated on his work.  
  
“It was nice meeting you, Cas.” Dean says. Castiel turns to face him, expression unreadable.  
  
“It was a pleasure, Dean.”  
  
“And uh, thank you for last night. I know we both may have been a little out of it but, uh, I had fun.” Dean gives him a shy smile, hoping he doesn’t sound too sappy. This is supposed to be nothing more than some good, casual sex with a beautiful stranger.  
  
Castiel smiles and Dean’s heart rate picks up. “I should be thanking you, shouldn’t I?”  
  
Dean waves him off dismissively. “Of course not.”  
  
“Regardless, thank you, Dean.” Castiel murmurs in that gravelly voice that sends shivers down his back.  
  
Dean swallows, forcing himself to make words. “Have a safe flight home.”  
  
Cas nods. “I will.”  
  
Dean turns to leave, but pauses. Why the hell not? “Hey, Cas?”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“What if I wanted to call you?” Dean searches Cas’ face desperately for any type of reaction. Surprise is what he finds.  
  
“Dean,” Castiel shakes his head gently and drops his eyes to the floor, but doesn’t say anything more. And Dean takes this as a hint that there’s nothing else he can do. Cas is not interested.  
  
“Well, if you so happen to change your mind, some friends of mine are having a get together at The Roadhouse tonight. You’re welcome to join us,” Dean says, tearing his gaze away from Cas.  
  
“I appreciate the offer,” Cas says politely. Dean nods once and leaves, this time for good.  
  


  


* * *

“Hey Dean.”  
  
“What the hell, man?”  
  
“What?” Sam is completely confused, which only irritates Dean more.  
  
“You’re in Arizona right now? You just up and leave? Trade houses with some stranger?” Dean growls, but conveniently leaves out the part that he’s actually glad for said stranger, even if it was short lived. But that’s not the point.  
  
Sam doesn’t answer for what feels like whole minutes. “Dean, do you seriously not remember?”  
  
He furrows his brow. Remember what? He’s fairly certain he would remember if his little brother was ditching them for the holidays. Sam sighs on the other end of the phone. “I told you two days ago I was leaving.”  
  
Dean shakes his head even though Sam can’t see him. “No, that can’t be right.”  
  
“Well, it is. Remember? The fight, then Dad…” Sam trails off, clearly being careful with spelling it out for him.  
  
Then it all comes rushing back to him. Of course Sam told him. The only reason he doesn’t remember was because he drowned himself in alcohol that night to forget everything. Guess he succeeded. “Shit… I remember,” he sighs, pressing his thumb and index finger to his eyes and rubbing them as if this would block out the unpleasant memory.  
  
It’s as clear as day now. Dad and Sam have been battling it out with each other for a while now over everything and anything. The two just don’t get along the best. Sam’s been taking courses at the local community college for a couple semesters now, just basic gen ed classes. But he’s recently decided to pursue something greater. He wants to be a lawyer. Which translates to he has to leave Lawrence. And John Winchester is not about to let him. It took a lot to even agree to let Sam move out of the house.  
  
It didn’t all just explode right away though. Sam’s been dropping hints and casually bringing it up for weeks now and John usually just ignores him while Dean will listen but doesn’t go into further discussion about it.  
  
It’s not that Dean isn’t supportive of Sam because his first and foremost goal in life is to make sure Sam is happy. Their father, however, is a different story. The man’s been through a lot since they lost their mother died. Depression, a drinking problem which all led to the obsessive desire to make sure Dean and Sam were protected. Dean understands this, but Sam has grown tired of it. He’s always wanted to go his own path from the family, not that Dean could blame him. John isn’t exactly the peachiest person to be around, especially when he’s drinking.  
  
Not too long ago, their biggest fight revolved around Sam moving out of the house. Eventually, John let him as long as Sam continued to work at the body shop and they still had a couple family dinners together every week. That took a lot mediating from Dean to get both of them satisfied. And that’s how it always goes, Dean being the one to make sure everything doesn’t fall apart.  
  
Growing up, Dean practically raised Sam. He didn’t mind though because he loves his little brother and if it meant one more thing Dad didn’t have to worry about, then so be it. Dean wanted his dad to heal, to get better. Trying to balance his brother with his father was a constant balancing act, made especially difficult by the fact that the two of them are constantly at each other’s throats.  
  
So when Sam mentioned how he applied to Stanford and got a full ride, this drove John over the edge.  
  
“There are plenty of colleges locally that you can attend. It’s unnecessary to move to California, of all places,” John argued.  
  
“Dad, I want to get different experiences out of my life. I want challenges, opportunities, something greater than inheriting the family business. That’s not my life,” Sam explained, trying so hard to keep his tone under control.  
  
“You’re being selfish. This family is all we got and you just can’t wait to jump ship,” John snapped.  
  
Dean was sitting at the kitchen table trying to eat one of the few dinners they have together each week, which the other two have abandoned. “Can’t we get through one meal without a showdown?” he asked, looking between the two of them who are pacing around and staring each other down like two alpha males about to attack. They both ignore him.  
  
“Why can’t you ever be happy for me? Other dads, they want their children to be free, to do what they want to do. Not you. You just suffocate us, command us like some drill sergeant and expect us to do whatever the hell you want,” Sam yelled.  
  
John bristled, taking a step towards Sam, which made Dean’s stomach flip. John isn’t one for hitting, but he’d also had a few to drink that day and who knows what alcohol will make him do. Dean’s learned that over the years. “I’m trying to protect you.” John’s voice was low and dangerous. Sam didn’t flinch or even bat an eye. He’s not backing down this time.  
  
Dean shot up, the chair scraping against the floor and moves in between the two before someone got hurt, namely Sam. “Will you two stop? This is ridiculous!”  
  
“Dean, stay out of this.” John growled.  
  
“No, Dad. This fighting needs to stop. We can talk about this like civilized people,” Dean said, although he couldn’t ignore the twinge of fear he felt. But he must protect Sammy. John looked them both over then laughed bitterly, backing away.  
  
“Sam, if you go, don’t ever come back.” He grabbed his beer from the table and left, the door slamming behind him.  
  
Dean turned to give Sam a hard look. “Dude, what the fuck? Can’t we have one night where you and Dad don’t kill each other?”  
  
Sam laughed a bitter laugh that sounded exactly like John’s. “Dean, you just don’t understand. You never will.”  
  
Dean crossed his arms, clenching his jaw. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“You don’t really understand what I’m going through. If you did, you would stand up to Dad and back me up.”  
  
“Oh, so me saving your ass just now, as well as the hundreds of other times, that doesn’t count?” His own voice was rising now. Sam’s seriously accusing him of not backing him up. It hurts.  
  
“You’re not saving my ass. You’re just keeping him from doing worse. You don’t truly want me to go to school. You’re just like him. You’re his little solider, Dean, and you’ll follow him blindly wherever he goes.”  
  
Dean’s mouth dropped open but the protests don’t come. Sam’s words slice through him, the wounds gapping and stinging with no way to close them up. Sam continued. “You haven’t once said you wanted me to go, to pursue my dreams. You just stay quiet or give some half assed ‘sounds cool, Sammy’ whenever I bring it up.”  
  
“Of course I want you to go, but I’m also being a good, loyal son. We can’t just abandon Dad.” Dean said weakly.  
  
Sam shakes his head. “Save it, Dean. I knew you wouldn’t understand.” And then he pushed past Dean and disappeared.  
  
The next day, when Dean visited Sam at his house, which Dean practically lived at, Sam told him that he needed a break from everything and that he would be going to Arizona for the holidays as part of some home exchange.  
  
“So you’re just ditching the family for Christmas?” Dean asked incredulously.  
  
“It’s not like Dad wants me here right now anyway,” Sam mumbled, tearing clothes out of the closet to throw into a suitcase.  
  
“You know, you running from your problems isn’t going to solve anything,” Dean retorted.  
  
“I’m not running. Just… I need to do this, Dean.”  
  
“And what about me? You’re just going to leave me alone with a pissed off Dad while you enjoy your fruity drinks by the pool?”  
  
This seemed to get to Sam because he gives Dean a sympathetic look. “Dean, I’m sorry. If you want to help me, you’ll let me do this.” Dean shook his head, unable to comprehend what Sam was saying. “Besides, you’re an adult. Go stay at Charlie’s or something. Get a break yourself.” Sam suggested as he returned to his feverish packing.  
  
Dean snorted. Yeah right. John would kill them if both of them left. But Dean also knew he had to be there for John so he doesn’t fall off the edge. So taking a break was completely out of the question. “So do you know the guy?” Change the subject. That always works.  
  
“No, not really. But he seems nice enough. Not a serial killer.” And that ended that conversation. Later that day after he dropped Sam off at the airport, as much as Dean hated doing it, he needed a drink. One drink led to another and another and he made his goal somewhere between the third and fourth to forget everything that was going on. The next night when he met Castiel was merely another night of drinking from dealing with a still angry John Winchester, who has no idea Sam is gone.  
  
“I assume you’ve met Castiel,” Sam’s voice pulls him back to the present.  
  
Without thinking, a smile instantly nestles its way on his lips. “Yeah, last night actually. I kind of drunkenly showed up at your house and he was there.”  
  
Sam groans. “Great. You didn’t traumatize him, did you?”  
  
Traumatize. Dean isn’t sure if this is Sam’s code for sex or if he’s honestly concerned Dean might’ve freaked out Cas, but he decides not to share. “I don’t traumatize people, Sammy. I hypnotize them,” he teases and if Sam was standing in front of him, he would’ve winked.  
  
“Dean.”  
  
“No. He just let me crash on the couch.” A sigh of relief. “Sammy, can we just put this stuff behind us? I don’t want to fight with you, especially during the holidays,” Dean says tiredly.  
  
“Yeah, me neither. We could Skype or something. Or maybe you could fly down here. It’s beautiful,” Sam says, sounding hopeful.  
  
Dean laughs. “I am not getting on a flying metal death trap.” Which is true. There’s no way he’d fly down there and he doesn’t feel like taking the long drive to Arizona alone. But mostly he can’t abandon his Dad on Christmas.  
  
Sam laughs on the other end and it warms Dean’s heart. Hearing Sammy laugh was one of the best things in life. It means he’s doing something right. “Listen Sammy, I gotta head to the shop. I’ll talk to you later.” They say their brief goodbyes and hang up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> And Merry Christmas if you celebrate it!  
> [My tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

Dean walks into the shop thirty minutes late. His phone call with Sam delayed him this morning, but he’s glad he talked to him. Although, he doesn’t feel much better. There's still John to deal with. He looks around for his father but sees no sign of him. Maybe this might mean he won’t get lectured for once, because he’s certainly not in the mood for it.  
  
“Look who decided to roll out of bed today,” a voice taunts behind him.  
  
Dean looks over his shoulder to see Bobby Singer, a close family friend and owner of the body shop, standing with a mock look of disapproval.  
  
“Yeah yeah. Sorry ‘m late,” Dean mumbles as he sheds his leather jacket.  
  
“Idjit. I oughta fire you or something.”  
  
This makes Dean laugh despite the cloud that’s been hanging over his head since this morning. “Yeah right. You’d be lost without me, Bobby.”  
  
Dean slips into his jumpsuit that he wears when working gets started on his first car. He concentrates on his work and hums along to the soft Christmas music that fills the garage. No one bothers him, which he’s grateful for. His mind keeps blank from the thoughts that desperately want to make themselves known; Sam, his dad, Castiel, all of which cause some form of pain. He buries them under Mariah Carey lyrics and methodical instructions on how to complete the job he’s working on.  
  
It works for a bit until John shows up. “Thanks for showing up, Dean.”  
  
Dean isn’t sure how to take this, whether it’s sarcasm or John’s genuinely thanking him. “Since you didn’t bother to check in for two days.” Guess that answers that question.  
  
“Sorry, sir, but I have life,” Dean mutters under his breath, not bothering to look at the disapproving face that’s sure to be staring at him.  
  
“Doesn’t give you the right to go AWOL,” John grunts. Dean decides not to answer. “Where’s Sam? He’s late.” Shit.  
  
“He’s, um, not here,” Dean says, hands griping the wrench he’s holding so tight it hurts.  
  
“What do you mean he’s not here?” The anger is already rising in his voice. Dean casts a look over to Bobby who until now, was pretending to not notice the conversation going on. Now he’s concerned.  
  
Dean takes a deep breath before standing up to face his father head on. “Sam’s gone. He left for the holidays.”  
  
John’s face contorts into anger, then even more anger until it becomes blank. “Of course he did.”  
  
Sam’s voice sounds in the back of Dean’s head. _You don’t really understand what I’m going through. If you did, you would stand up to Dad and back me up_. Protect Sammy.  
  
“Dad, would you just lay off him?”  
  
John’s eyebrows lift in surprise. While Dean does anything to protect Sam, he never dares speak outright against his father. “What did you say?”  
  
“I said to leave him alone. No wonder he wants to leave so bad. All you do is try to control him and sooner or later he will leave for good and there’ll be nothing you can do,” Dean says, keeping a level voice.  
  
“You better watch your mouth, boy,” John warns. And Dean is tempted to shut up right then and there, maybe even apologize, but Sam’s voice speaks to him once again. _You’re his little solider, Dean, and you’ll follow him blindly wherever he goes_.  
  
“No, sir. We’re not little kids anymore,” Dean says, getting more irritated.  
  
John narrows his eyes. “What’s gotten into you? Where is Sam?”  
  
“I’m not telling you. You’re going to leave him alone or so help me…” Dean doesn’t finish his sentence.  
  
“Or what?”  
  
Dean clenches his hands into fists. “Or else you won’t have any sons left to control.” The moment the words are out in the open, Dean wishes he could take them back. They’re harsh. Cold.  
  
John smiles darkly, shaking his head and leaves without another word. Dean glances over at Bobby who has turned his attention back to his work.  
  
“Go on and say it,” Dean spits, a mixture of emotions still swirling inside him.  
  
“Got nothin’ to say,” Bobby says. “Can’t say I’m surprised Sam left.”  
  
Dean swallows hard, trying to rid the lump that’s formed in his throat. “Bobby… I don’t know what to do.”  
  
Bobby sighs, setting down his tools and walks over to Dean to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Boy, you shouldn’t be worrying about this stuff. You don’t need to take care of Sam and John. That’s not your responsibility.”  
  
Dean shakes his head. “I can’t just leave them alone, Bobby. If I don’t take care of them, who will?”  
  
“Their own damn selves, that’s who!” Bobby exclaims. “Dean, you should be living your life doing what you want to do. You’re not the maid forced to clean up their mess.”  
  
Dean looks away. He’s wrong. It is his responsibility. The two of them would tear each other apart if it weren’t for Dean. Sam would leave for good and not look back and John would drink himself to death or spiral further into depression. That’s no life for either of them. They were all happy once. Dean can bring that back. He just has to try harder.  
  
“You’re unbelievable. You have that low of an opinion of yourself, boy?” Bobby says in a saddened voice, giving his shoulder a hard squeeze.  
  
“I’ll take care of this, Bobby,” he says and pulls away from his grasp. All that fills the garage is the cheery tune of Jingle Bell Rock. No more words are exchanged.  
  


  


* * *

The rest of the day passes slowly and Dean focuses his thoughts on the get together that’s tonight. He’ll feel so much better when he sees his friends again. Jo, Charlie, and Benny. Bobby said he’d swing by at some point too and Ellen might take a break long enough to have a drink with them. Overall, this evening should be fun.  
  
Dean eagerly climbs into the Impala and makes his way for The Roadhouse at precisely seven o’clock. He casually drives down Sam’s street to check if Castiel is still there, but all the lights are off and there’s no sign of him. His heart sinks a little. Just a one night stand. That’s all.  
  
When he makes it to the bar, everything is already in full swing. He rushes in from the cold and immediately spots Benny and Charlie in a booth by a window. He smiles and shuffles over to them.  
  
“Dean!” Charlie chirps and throws her arms around him with lightning speed, it takes Dean off guard. He wraps his arms around her and chuckles.  
  
“Hey Charlie.”  
  
“Dean Winchester, you’ve become a stranger,” she says, giving him a stern look with her hands on her hips.  
  
He rolls his eyes and ruffles her red hair, “What can I say? I’m a busy guy.” He turns his attention to Benny, who has stood up to give him a hug as well.  
  
“We thought you died, brother,” Benny teases.  
  
“Far from it. He’s been here the last few days,” Jo says, coming up behind them with a tray in hand.  
  
He playfully shoves Jo. “Shush, you’re giving away my secrets. Aren’t you supposed to be off Miss. Workaholic?”  
  
“I know, but Mom’s swamp right now. I promise I’ll join you when it settles down,” she says, giving a glance around the bar. Dean gives her a one armed hug before she’s off to a table and joins Charlie and Benny in the booth.  
  
“You’ve been here, Dean?” Charlie asks, glancing at him. He should’ve known Jo’s comment wouldn’t go unnoticed.  
  
“Yeah, just blowing off some steam.” But Charlie and Benny don’t look convinced. “Guys, I’m fine. Can we not talk about me tonight?” he groans, leaning back into the cushion.  
  
Benny nods slowly before launching into a story about an interesting passenger he had yesterday.  
  
“Says he exchanged houses with Sam,” Benny tells them.  
  
“Sam’s gone?” Charlie pipes up.  
  
“Yeah. He needed a break from… stuff,” Dean says. “But isn’t it a small world,” he adds to Benny.  
  
“Have you met him yet?” Benny asks.  
  
Dean smiles, blushing softly. “Uh yeah, I did.” He’s hoping his blush isn’t too noticeable.  
  
Charlie’s hands suddenly wrap around Dean’s arm, clutching to him tightly. “What happened?” It’s safe to say she saw the blush.  
  
“Nothing!” He tears his arm away from her, rubbing it dramatically because it actually did hurt, but mostly to tease her.  
  
“Dean Winchester, don’t you lie to me! I know that look!” she exclaims, crossing her arms. He holds her determined gaze. The image of Cas slowly kissing down his chest and over his stomach, pausing just above his boxers mixed with the sounds of heavy breathing and moans of pleasure flash through his mind and he tears his eyes away from hers.  
  
“Nothing happened, Charlie. No funny business,” he says.  
  
“I’m surprised,” Benny chuckles. Dean looks up to him, eyebrows furrowed.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
Benny shrugs. “You’re Dean Winchester. You have a sort of reputation, brother.”  
  
Dean scoffs. “Thanks for thinking so highly of me.”  
  
Benny holds his hands up like he means no offense. “I’m just saying. When I knew he would be living at Sam’s house, I thought for sure you might’ve welcomed him to the neighborhood.”  
  
Jo briefly swings back to get drink and dinner orders before whisking away to fulfill them. Dean feels guilty. She should be sitting with them, not working. She returns swiftly with three beers before rushing to the next table.  
  
“So what happened? How’d you meet him?” Charlie presses, taking a sip of her beer.  
  
Dean explains everything, leaving out the parts of why he was drinking in the first place and then the eventual sex they had. “So when are you going to see him again?” Charlie asks when he’s finished.  
  
“I’m not. He left.” Dean says, picking at the label on his bottle.  
  
“Left? He just got here!” Benny exclaims and Dean shrugs.  
  
“Guess he made some rash decisions and realized it too late.”  
  
Soon enough, Jo arrives with their food and settles into the booth next to Benny with a huff. “I can finally sit.”  
  
“It’s about time,” Dean says teasingly and she kicks him under the table, making him laugh. They all dig into their food, chatting about the holidays and catching up. And for a moment, Dean loses himself in this perfect moment, surrounded with friends and great food. And he really believes he’s happy.  
  
That is, until he sees Benny lean over and whisper something to Jo. Jo nods, looking confused and Benny whispers to her again and then her eyes go wide, flicking past Dean.  
  
Dean and Charlie share a confused look before Dean glances back to them. “Care to share with the class?” he asks around his mouthful of bacon cheeseburger.  
  
“Your friend is here,” Benny says, nodding towards the door. Friend? Dean turns in his seat to look behind him and sure enough, there’s a shivering trench coat standing near the entrance, looking around the bar for something. Or someone. Could it really be him? Yes it is. Dean could recognize that dark, disheveled hair and trench coat anywhere.  
  
“Cas?” he calls, feeling the breath slip out of his lungs. Castiel’s eyes immediately find Dean and he feels glued to his seat by those piercing blue eyes. He stumbles to his feet as Charlie shoves him out of the booth, nearly colliding with a waitress.  
  
“Hello Dean,” Cas greets him in that low, gravelly voice, looking somewhat embarrassed. Dean walks up to him, still feeling lost for words, unable to believe Cas is really here standing in front of him.  
  
“What-what are you doing here?”  
  
Castiel looks confused then frowns. “I thought you extended an invitation. I must’ve misunderstood.” He takes a small step back and Dean quickly reaches out, gently holding his arm from going any farther.  
  
“No no, I did. I just thought you left,” Dean says quickly.  
  
“I changed my mind last minute,” Castiel says quietly, biting his lip. Dean’s eyes rest on his lips and a flash of images enter his mind. Those pink lips curled around the shaft of his cock, kissing every inch of his body, the way they moved when he yelled out Dean’s name and begged for more. Dean tears his gaze away, feeling his face get hot. Dammit, these thoughts aren’t doing him any favors.  
  
“I’m glad you’re here, man,” he clears his throat and offers a charming smile. “Let me introduce you.” He pulls Castiel over to their table, where everyone has rearranged themselves; Charlie and Jo sitting on one side of the booth and Benny sitting at the end on a chair he pulled up. There’s one whole side of the booth completely empty, just for him and Cas. Dean wishes he could scold his friends. They’re not so subtle with the hints.  
  
“Guys, this is Castiel. The one who exchanged houses with Sammy.” And then he goes through and points out each person to Cas, who nods politely and shakes their hands, although Charlie looks like she wants to leap out of the booth and throw her arms around him if she weren’t stuck by the window.  
  
“Hey sweetie, glad you made it back!” Dean hears Ellen call from across the bar. Castiel smiles to her and nods.  
  
“It’s the burgers,” he says jokingly and Ellen smiles warmly at him, already placing his order. Dean glances from Ellen to Cas, wondering when those two became such good friends.  
  
Dean lets Cas slide into the booth first before sitting beside him. Charlie, of course, launches into asking Cas a million questions.  
  
“So what do you do?”  
  
“I’m a photographer.”  
  
“Do you specialize in any specific area of photography?”  
  
“I work for a rather undesirable newspaper company, so they just tell me what to shoot. No freedom to specialize.”  
  
“What do you like to photograph?”  
  
Castiel looks overwhelmed by the questions and Dean interjects.  
  
“Charlie, give him a break, he just got here. Besides, this isn’t an interview.”  
  
Charlie crosses her arms, “I’m just being friendly, Dean.”  
  
“It’s okay, Dean. I don’t mind,” Cas tells him with a soft smile. The same smile that makes Dean want to kiss him silly.  
  
Ellen shows up soon with a drink and Castiel’s burger and fries, staying for a moment to chat until her attention is called back to the bar.  
  
“So why’d you come here?” Jo asks, nibbling on a fry.  
  
“I needed a vacation.”  
  
“Which is code for hiding,” Charlie says, leaning forward in her seat. “What happened? A crazy ex? I bet that’s what it is,”  
  
“Charlie,” Dean warns again, but his warning goes ignored.  
  
“Yes, actually. A sequence of unfortunate events led me here,” Castiel explains, chewing on a fry.  
  
“You know what they say about vacations. Good way to meet new people,” Charlie says, giving a not so subtle look to Dean.  
  
Dean attempts to kick her under the table but ends up kicking Jo again who gives him a dirty look. Castiel just looks between them both, confused as to what’s going on but swallows his mouthful of fries. “It is, but I’m not usually the outgoing type. My best friend and roommate back home usually does that for both of us.”  
  
“Well Dean here is really nice, I’m sure he could fill that spot for you,” Benny pipes up this time. “He helped me when I first arrived here.” Dean feels Cas tense up beside him and Dean wants everyone to shut up already about him. Clearly, Castiel is not comfortable with all their suggestions of Dean being around him much. And Cas made it clear of what they were to each other. This is only rubbing salt in the wound for Dean.  
  
“I’m sure he did,” Cas remarks, taking another bite form his burger.  
  
Thankfully, Bobby shows up and all the suggestive allusions cease. They spend the rest of the evening drinking and laughing, Cas fitting in just fine as if he’s been friends with them for years rather than two hours. There’s a moment when Dean and Castiel’s knees brush under the table and neither of them move away from the touch. It makes Dean’s heartbeat accelerate and he wants so badly to rest his hand on his thigh. But he doesn’t.  
  
By the end of the evening, everyone is slightly too intoxicated and they all have to call cabs home. Castiel is swaying gently next to Dean, shivering from the bitter cold as they waited for their cab to arrive. Everyone else’s has come and gone, leaving them standing alone in front of the bar.  
  
“Heya, Cas?”  
  
“Hmm?” Cas hums, looking lazily up at Dean.  
  
“Do ya mind if I stay over again?”  
  
“Not at all,” Castiel smiles. A gust of wind swipes over them and knocks Cas off balance, resulting in him stumbling into Dean, who catches him. “Sorry,” he murmurs, seemingly confused on how he ended up in Dean’s arms.  
  
“Don be,” Dean tells him, feeling the warmth of Cas’ body against his chest. Castiel awkwardly pulls away from Dean and before he can get too disappointed, their cab arrives. The ride home is short and quiet besides the quiet humming coming from Castiel. It sounds like Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, but Dean can’t be too sure in this state of mind.  
  
When they reach Sam’s house, Dean hands the driver his cash and climbs out after Cas, nearly running into him as the car drives off. Dean backs up, taking in the sight of Cas staring up at the dark sky, humming ceased. Dean almost believes he might sprout wings with how beautiful he looks.  
  
“Cas?” Dean murmurs, unsure whether he should disturb him or not.  
  
“Do you think it’ll snow, Dean?” Castiel’s voice is nearly lost on the breeze with how quiet it is.  
  
“I’m not sure. Sometimes we get a white Christmas, sometimes we don’t,” Dean says.  
  
Castiel considers this for a moment before asking, “Do you like snow?”  
  
Dean thinks about this as well as his slightly inept mind can at the moment. “I don’t know. Snow can be nice. People like it at first, but the longer it sticks around, they want it gone. Guess ‘m kinda like them.” Castiel nods, still staring up at the cloudy sky. “Do you?”  
  
This time, he looks at Dean, eyebrows scrunched together as he contemplates his response. “I’ve never experienced it before, so I can’t say whether I enjoy it or not.”  
  
Dean swallows, barely able to make sense of what Cas was saying. He was so distracted simply by Cas standing in front of him. He slowly closes the space between them and Castiel doesn’t move away, still keeping Dean’s gaze. “You came back,” he whispers, as if this was all a dream and if he spoke too loudly, he might wake up.  
  
“Yes, I did.” Castiel gently reaches his fingers forward to brush against Dean’s. Dean leans forward, pressing his cold lips to Cas’ and gets an immediate reaction. Castiel practically melts into Dean, holding his hand so tight it was as if he was about to float away. Or maybe fly away. Dean could feel Cas’ tongue trace the outside of lips, something he seems to like doing, and he parts his mouth to let Cas in. Dean lets his hands wander over Castiel’s trench coat, wanting to rip it off and admire and memorize every part of his body. He only pulls back when he feels Cas trembling beneath his fingers.  
  
Castiel frowns, tilting his head in confusion until his eyes widen and he stumbles backwards, “Oh God Dean, I’m so sorry.”  
  
The alcohol isn’t helping Dean’s brain as he’s unsure why Castiel is apologizing. He thought he was the one in the wrong. “What? No Cas, don’t be.”  
  
But Castiel is barely listening. “I don’t know what I was thinking, all of this is-“  
  
“Cas.” Dean says firmly, making Castiel stop. “You’re trembling. I-I thought I was the one…”  
  
Castiel’s brain finally connects the dots and he smiles gently, blushing in the cutest way possible. “I was shivering,” he admits.  
  
Dean processes this and then a smile breaks out over his face too. “Let’s get inside then.”  
  
Castiel nods and they both hurry into the house, where the heater is still broken and everything is still freezing. “I’ll fix that damn heater first thing in the morning,” Dean promises as Castiel starts pulling him towards the bedroom.  
  
“It’s okay, I know a way we can warm up,” Cas says with a sly wink to Dean and it nearly stops his heart. Castiel winking. Somehow, Dean suspects he doesn’t do this often. Dean grabs Cas’ face gently in his hands and starts kissing him, Castiel reciprocating hungrily. He nudges the trench coat off Cas’ shoulders before throwing off his own leather, their lips never leaving each other.  
  
Dean’s surprised when Cas pushes him against the wall in the hallway, pinning him there and kissing his way down Dean’s throat. Last night, Cas had been more gentle and certainly more nervous with his constant explanations of how this is something he never did. Now, though, he seems determined to make his claim on Dean.  
  
Dean lets out a soft moan and Castiel’s hands slowly venture over his body, brushing over the spot in his jeans where he’s become hard. Castiel nibbles on the soft skin between his neck and shoulder and it drives Dean crazy. He closes his eyes, feeling as Cas alternates between the grazing of his teeth and sucking on the tender skin then soothing the spot delicately with his tongue. He grabs Cas by the shoulders and spins them around so now Cas is pinned up against the wall. He slides his knee in between Cas’ legs and holds his wrists against the wall so he can’t touch Dean.  
  
“Dean,” Cas whines as Dean presses his thigh against Castiel’s erection, which is unbelievably hard, it makes Dean’s throb from inside the confines of his jeans. Dean hungrily kisses along Castiel’s jawline, tongue leaving a light, wet trail against his skin. Cas squirms in his grasp, fingers reaching to touch Dean but he holds him steady. The night before, Cas was all about touching Dean as if he got life from it, and it’s clear now that it’s torturous to keep him from doing so.  
  
“No touchy,” Dean chuckles against the hollow of his throat before setting a soft kiss there. Castiel growls and rips his hands free, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck and pulling their bodies close so that they were flesh against each other and bringing their lips together once again.  
  
“Someone’s impatient,” Dean murmurs against his lips with a smile.  
  
“Someone likes to tease,” Castiel retorts, giving him one more kiss before tugging Dean the rest of the way to the bedroom. Castiel quickly lifts Dean’s shirt over his head and his fingers are already at Dean’s belt buckle.  
  
“Not so fast,” Dean says, pushing his hands away so he can free Castiel of his shirt too. “You don’t get all the eye candy,” he smirks. Castiel flashes him an enticing smile before shoving Dean backwards on the bed and climbing on top of him. Castiel rakes his eyes over Dean’s bared chest before diving in to press his lips against Dean’s, fingers fumbling again with the belt buckle.  
  
Dean isn’t sure how Castiel manages it through the haze of alcohol and lust, but somehow his jeans are being pulled off, soon followed by Castiel’s. Dean pulls Cas down next to him, their breathing heavy, skin glistening with sweat and Cas starts to lay delicate kisses around Dean’s face, as if he were trying to kiss every freckle. Dean’s hands slowly travel over Cas’ body until they reach the spot where he’s covered by his boxers. He trails his fingertips lightly over the fabric and down the shaft of Cas’ cock.  
  
“ _Fuck_ , Dean stop teasing,” Cas growls against lips.  
  
“Just you sit back and relax,” Dean murmurs, smiling conspiratorially. He traces his way back up to the waistband where he gently pulls them off and tosses over his shoulder. He’s about to bend over and press his lips to his cock when Castiel squirms from his hands, nearly ripping Dean’s boxers off and scooting down to take him into his mouth.  
  
Dean gasps at the sudden sensation of Castiel’s tongue trailing the underside of his shaft up to the head. “Cas,” he chokes out, squeezing his eyes tight. Castiel’s lips move slowly at first up and down Dean’s dick and gradually speeds up, Dean fisting the sheets of the bed to ground him. “Shit, Cas,” he breathes, tossing his head back against the bed in utter bliss.  
  
Castiel gives one last big suck, his lips making a popping sound as they release Dean’s dick and his kisses his way up to his mouth. “Dean, will you…” he trails off, but Dean knows what he’s asking.  
  
Dean gives him an affectionate kiss on the nose before sitting up. “Hell yeah, if you want me to.” Cas nods eagerly and Dean chuckles, reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing a packet of lube, opening it and squeezing it over his fingers, making sure they’re thoroughly coated. He positions himself over Castiel again and his fingers find their way to his entrance where they slowly prod their way in, starting off with one. Dean hears Castiel’s breath catch in his throat and he leans down to kiss the corner of Castiel’s parted mouth, moving his fingers slowly to allow him to adjust. Castiel’s breathing starts to pick up as Dean goes faster and it isn’t long until he’s adding a second finger.  
  
“More,” Castiel demands, blue eyes keeping steady with Dean’s.  
  
“You’re one impatient son of a bitch. You know that, right?” Dean chuckles and he brushes Cas’ prostate which sends him writhing with pleasure. Once Dean feels he’s opened Cas to the point where he won’t hurt him, he reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom, which he realizes are still seated from the night before. He vaguely wonders if Cas purposely left it out or completely forgot to put them away. Either way, he’s glad it doesn’t require a trip to the bathroom where he has a stash of lube and condoms for such occasions. Dean slides the condom on and lines himself with Cas, taking a shaky breath before pressing his way inside.  
  
Castiel throws his head back, mouth opening to let out a soft groan. “Fuck, Dean,” he whispers to the ceiling. Dean slowly slides in, clenching his jaw, trying not to lose it all right then and there. He pauses once Castiel’s completely taken him in, needing to take a few careful breaths before he starts slowly moving his hips.  
  
Castiel starts moving his ass in unison with Dean’s thrusts and Dean sputters out a breath, nearly collapsing on him. “Cas, slow down. You’re gonna make me-“ he gasps as Castiel slams himself on Dean’s cock unexpectedly. Cas joins his gasp and they both freeze for a moment, their pants filling the air. Dean cautiously moves his hips and when it appears both of them will remain intact, he starts going faster. This seems to satisfy Castiel because he doesn’t try to move things along any faster.  
  
Castiel cries out and Dean knows he’s hit the right spot. He aims for that and it sends Cas into a twisting, whimpering mess beneath him. “Dean, Dean, I’m gonna- I’m gonna come,” he pants out, staring up into Dean eyes.  
  
Dean leans over and connects their lips, murmuring, “Come for me, angel. Come for me.” He gives one final drive into Castiel before Cas is crying out against his lips, back arching off the bed and Dean feels Cas come into his hand, which he started stroking at some point he doesn’t remember. The pure sound of Castiel coming is enough to drive Dean over the edge and he’s coming next.  
  
“Fuck, Cas, _fuck_ ,” he inhales sharply as pure bliss settles over him. He collapses beside Cas, their chests heaving for air. After a couple minutes of nothing but panting, Dean realizes he only hears his own and looks over to find Cas completely knocked out. Dean smiles to himself and slowly eases his way off the bed, tossing the condom in the trash and heading down to the bathroom to wash up, swaying ever so slightly on his feet.  
  
He glances at himself in the mirror, taking in his sex hair and the swollen redness of his lips and the shimmering sweat on his body. He and Castiel had sex again. After it was supposed to be a onetime thing only. Not that Dean’s complaining, but will Cas feel the same in the morning? Dean shivers softly as his body starts to cool down from their torrid activity and he hurries back to the bed where Castiel hasn’t moved an inch.  
  
Gingerly, he scoops Cas into his arms and sets him right side on the bed, head resting against a pillow, and pulls the covers over him. He hurries around to the other side and climbs in next to him, freezing when Cas shifts and cracks his eyes open to look at Dean. He looks utterly confused.  
  
“Dean? Are you leaving?” his voice is sleepy whisper.  
  
“No. Shh, go back to sleep,” Dean says, giving him a light kiss to his forehead. He nods groggily and goes out like a light. Dean settles close to Cas, relishing from the warmth of his body and it doesn’t take long before he goes out himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up ;)  
> I hope you enjoyed!  
> [My tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel wakes up and instantly feels the pounding in his head. He groans quietly, pressing his fingers to his temple. He drank way too much last night, even more than his little Walking Dead drinking game from two nights ago with Dean… _Dean!_  
  
He rolls over to see the other side of the bed empty and he relaxes the slightest bit. Maybe it was all in his head. Maybe Dean didn’t really come home with him last night and they did it… again. Maybe these memories that are slowly resurfacing in his mind are merely a dream he had. A very realistic, hot and steamy, bliss-filled dream.  
  
The smell of pancakes wafts into the bedroom and he sits up, wincing as the pounding reminds him once again of the life choices he's made. Take it slow, Castiel, he reminds himself. He drops his feet down to the floor, expecting the cold to bite at his bared skin but it doesn’t. He realizes that the usual chill that hangs in the air is absent this morning. He stands up, finally noticing that he is completely naked and throws on his boxers and t-shirt. There’s no sign of Dean’s clothes anywhere, only Castiel’s strewn about the room. Maybe he just went crazy last night and did a wild strip tease for himself.  
  
He shuffles slowly down the hallway, the delicious scent of pancakes getting stronger.  
  
“Morning, sunshine,” Dean greets him with a dazzling smile. Castiel groans and waves his hand to shush him.  
  
“Don’t talk so loud,” Castiel hides his face from the bright light streaming in through the kitchen window and settles himself on a stool by the half wall.  
  
Dean chuckles and whispers, “Sorry,” before walking over and setting two little blue pills and a large glass of water next to him. “Take these, it’ll help.” Castiel nods obediently and slowly takes the pills followed by gulping down the entire glass of water. Dean waits until his done before taking the glass and refilling it for him.  
  
“Thanks,” he murmurs, studying Dean’s face. “Why aren’t you…?” he trails off when the hammering in his head intensifies for whatever reason.  
  
“I’m used to a little drinking, let’s just say that,” Dean says, turning his attention back to the pancakes. Castiel watches him for a moment before his eyes settle on a tiny bruise on Dean’s neck. Then all the hazy memories of last night hit him like a brick wall.  
  
“We had sex again,” Castiel states, mostly to himself. Dean looks over his shoulder at him.  
  
“You forgot?”  
  
“No, I just… wasn’t sure if it was real or not,” Castiel admits sheepishly.  
  
Dean slides the finished pancakes onto two plates and walks it over to the counter, setting a plate in front of Castiel and sliding onto the chair next to him. “I was that good?” he smirks, squeezing some syrup over his pancakes.  
  
Castiel blushes, keeping his eyes trained on the pancakes, which look to be plain pancakes. It’s like Dean enjoys seeing him blush. “Who knows? Alcohol makes anything seem good,” Castiel says with a teasing smile to Dean.  
  
Dean laughs and gently shoves him, “Yeah, whatever.” Castiel finally moves to pour his own syrup on his waiting pancakes and takes a bite. He was wrong, they’re not plain, they’re banana, and they’re amazing. He lets out a moan as he chews. “Like em?” Dean asks, and Castiel can feel his eyes on him.  
  
“Delicious. I didn’t take you for someone who can cook well,” Castiel says, shoveling another bite into his mouth.  
  
“I’ll try to take that as a compliment,” Dean says. “No, but I’ve had a lot of practice over the years, so I hope I can make some half way decent food at this point.”  
  
They both settle into a comfortable silence as they eat, Castiel savoring each bite of this perfection. His mind, although still throbbing, starts to wander, which is never good. He thinks back on last night, savoring each detail as much as the sweet flavors that fill his mouth. It was nothing like the night before. Castiel remembers the first time being more timid, worried he might do something wrong. The second time, however, was completely different. He had this confidence about him and he was absolutely sure of what he wanted; he wanted Dean.  
  
And it might be all fine because they both had set the terms on what they were. Sure, it was only supposed to happen once and that would be the end, but now it’s happened twice. And that could complicate things. Dean seems like a really nice guy, so he probably won’t point out to Castiel that he pushed the limits.  
  
Castiel swallows his bite of pancake thickly, it almost sticking in his throat. There’s a nervous flutter in his stomach and he can’t exactly say why. They both agreed no feelings, nothing more than sex. Hell, Castiel said he wouldn’t fall for the guy and Dean seemed relieved to hear this. He reminds himself that this is a great circumstance he’s found himself in. He has this incredibly attractive guy, with the most beautiful green eyes he’s ever seen, who has not only given Castiel the opportunity to sleep with him once, but twice, and is letting him go free of charge. No strings attached. This is everything Castiel could ask for. He didn’t want that romantic connection right now.  
  
But he’s not elated. He’s not grateful. There’s a pit sitting in his stomach at the prospect of Dean only wanting one thing from Castiel, just like April. And he can’t blame Dean because the guy gave him several opportunities to back out, but he didn’t. He did this to himself.  
  
Castiel decides he has two options; either break it off before he develops anything stronger or ignore his petty feelings and enjoy the beautiful creature that is Dean Winchester while he can. There aren’t many opportunities to have someone like Dean be willing to spend time with Castiel, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. At least, this is what he told himself yesterday as he was fully prepared to leave. And somehow he found his way back here. So maybe instead of trying to run, he’ll take the risk and deal with consequences later. Besides, he’s leaving soon enough. It could never get serious.  
  
“Hey, you okay?” Dean’s voice jerks him from his internal battle and his finds himself staring into those heart stopping green eyes.  
  
“Yes, perfectly fine,” Castiel says with what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Dean raises his eyebrows, clearly not convinced and Castiel sighs. “I’m sorry if I… if I overstepped last night.”  
  
“What? Don’t be!” Dean says, almost offended by the apology.  
  
“It’s just, I know we said we didn’t want things getting too, ya know,” Castiel stammers, unsure if he’s making any sense.  
  
Dean’s quiet for a moment, as if trying to sort out his words. “Are you telling me you fell in love with me?” He has a teasing glint in his eye, but despite the jokes, Castiel knows Dean is concerned he might be getting too attached. He did say he didn’t like being the cause of heartbreak. And Castiel doesn’t want Dean to feel guilty, so he lies.  
  
“No, of course not!” Castiel laughs. Which may not entirely be a lie. He’s doubtful if this is love he’s feeling, but there’s something. Whatever that something is, Castiel knows it’s not reciprocated.  
  
Dean shrugs, turning back to his pancakes and stuffs one last big bite into his mouth. “Then I don’t see what the problem is.” Castiel nods gently. “I fixed the heater, by the way, so you shouldn’t be freezing as long as you’re here,” Dean tells him.  
  
“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says with a grateful smile.  
  


  


* * *

Two days have passed since that morning with Dean. Two very long days for Castiel because they're disturbingly empty of Dean. Before he left that morning for work, they exchanged numbers. At first Castiel refused, thinking it was Dean taking pity on him for being alone for the holidays. But he insisted, saying that he wanted to show Castiel around or at least give him company. Good, harmless “company”. And Castiel gave in. Which was a mistake because every moment after, he stared at the number in his phone or checked it every few minutes to see if he missed a message or phone call from Dean. But nothing.  
  
Castiel’s ventured out of the house a couple times, most of them being to visit Ellen and Jo at The Roadhouse, and maybe to run into Dean, although he’ll never admit that to anyone. But he sincerely enjoyed Ellen and Jo’s company and they seemed to enjoy his. Most of the time though, he stays at home watching more of The Walking Dead with the occasional Christmas movie thrown into the mix just for Dean's sake.  
  
So now, as Castiel’s staring at his phone, he’s starting to question whether or not he should follow through with the plan he’s set in place. He wanted to see Dean again, but didn’t want to make it so obvious. No feelings, no attachments, blah blah blah. He decided to do something that would completely embarrass him if Dean ever found out. He traveled into the basement where the heater was and fumbled around with it until it conked out.  
  
A shiver violently rips through his body and that’s enough to convince him to take the final step. He quickly dials Dean’s number and waits anxiously while it rings.  
  
“Cas?" Dean’s voice echoes on the other end as if he was in a cave.  
  
“Hello Dean,” he greets.  
  
“Hey man, what’s up?”  
  
“I, um, the heater is broken again. I don’t mean to bother you, but-“ Castiel starts to explain Dean interjects.  
  
“Yeah, of course Cas. I’ll be over after work.”  
  
“Thank you, Dean. I really appreciate it,” Castiel smiles gently. He hears someone yell Dean’s name in the background and his smile fades.  
  
“Yeah, sure Cas. Listen, I gotta go. I’ll see you in a bit,” and then the line goes dead. Huh. Castiel tries to not let the abrupt end of the call bother him. But it does. He can’t help but feel like Dean didn’t actually want him to call, as much as he insisted. He must’ve just done it out of politeness. Either way, Castiel spends the rest of his day to distract himself from waiting by the window for the sight of Dean’s black ‘67 Chevy Impala.  
  
When he finally hears a light rapping of knuckles against the door around four o'clock, he all but launches himself off the couch, not bothering to pause the TV and opens the door to reveal a rosy cheeked Dean.  
  
“Hey Cas,” he smiles and it’s unfair how beautiful that smile is.  
  
“Dean, come in,” Cas says returning the smile and stepping aside.  
  
“So that damn heater went out again, huh?” Dean says, already shedding his coat. Castiel swallows uneasily. Does Dean know he purposely messed it up just to get him over here?  
  
“Uh, yeah. You should talk to Sam about it,” Cas offers pitifully.  
  
“I gotta talk to him about a lot of things,” he chuckles as he disappears into the basement. Castiel isn’t sure if he should follow, but decides it might look too clingy if he did. He settles back on the couch, pretending to watch the episode rather than listening for the footsteps to announce Dean’s return, which he does ten minutes later along with the quiet hum of the heater running again.  
  
“There ya go. Should be working just fine now,” Dean says, pausing behind the couch and looking down at Castiel.  
  
“Thank you Dean. Sorry I dragged you all the way out here just for-“ he stops when he sees Dean hold up a hand.  
  
“Really Cas, no need for thanks. I don’t mind.” He gives a look around the house as if thinking something over.  
  
“Is something wrong?” Castiel asks slowly, wondering if maybe he left the house too messy and Dean would call up Sam and tell him.  
  
“Sam isn’t one for holidays much,” Dean says. Castiel looks around with him, realizing the complete lack of Christmas decorations that otherwise color every other part of the town.  
  
“It appears not,” Castiel says, unsure why Dean was bringing this up.  
  
“I don’t really mind one way or another. About decorations I mean. But when I was a kid,” he pauses to smile at something, “my Mom and I would make a whole day of decorating the house to surprise my dad when he got home. Wreaths, garland, twinkling lights, the whole nine yards. We would all go pick out a tree and then put on Christmas music while we decorated it. Even though my Dad would complain about it, I knew he secretly enjoyed it. I would catch him smiling when we were done. And then he even put lights up on the house and it really looked nice,” Dean explains, staring off at some unseen point, completely lost in his memories. It makes Castiel smile, imagining a tiny Dean getting excited over ornaments and maybe baking cookies with his mother and that’s when he started learning how to cook.  
  
“But since she died, Christmas was never really the same. Dad lost interest so I was up to me to do all that stuff. I made the effort for Sammy, so he could have happy Christmas memories, but it wasn’t the same. Eventually, we just stopped, but we were always together as a family to have one semi decent meal,” Dean continues, his smile falling into a frown.  
  
Castiel slowly stands from the couch, walking around to put his hand comfortingly on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dean.”  
  
Dean looks at him with sadness clouding in his green eyes and he gives Castiel a sad smile. “Don’t be. That’s not why I’m telling you all of this.”  
  
Castiel tilts his head and squints his eyes gently, confused by Dean’s motives. He suddenly chuckles, shaking his head, which only confuses Castiel more.  
  
“What I’m getting at is if you wanted to, I could help you decorate or get a tree or somethin’. Given that Sam’ll be gone for Christmas and my Dad… he’s not in the cheeriest of moods these days, it’d be nice to do something besides sit around.”  
  
Castiel takes in Dean’s words. Jess loves Christmas and while Castiel usually just follows her lead, he wouldn’t mind partaking in festivities with Dean. “I think that sounds great,” he tells him and he sees Dean visibly relax.  
  
“Really?”  
  
Castiel nods. “Can’t say I’ll be very good at it, since Jess is the holiday mastermind, but I’ll try.”  
  
Dean smiles and he grabs his coat, shrugging it on. “Shall we start now? Christmas is two days away, ya know.”  
  
Castiel smiles and clicks off the TV, grabbing his trench coat from the closet and gives Dean a firm nod once he’s ready. “Let’s do this.”  
  


  


* * *

They spend the next few hours hitting store after store in search of Christmas paraphernalia. There’s not much considering, as Dean mentioned, Christmas is only two days away. But they find enough. They scrounge up enough lights for the house, a sad looking wreath with red berries and pinecones to hang on the front door and a tiny little snowman that says, ‘Let it snow!’ to guard the door outside. They even picked up ingredients to make cookies and pie.  
  
Now they’re on their last stop and the biggest; the tree. They make it just in time before the vendor is about to close down, although he looks annoyed that Dean and Castiel show up so close to closing. It doesn’t take much to make their picks, given the lack of trees left to sell. All that’s left are the small, pathetic looking trees that no one wants. No one except Dean and Castiel.  
  
Castiel favors a tiny one that is about waist height and won’t take up too much space in the living room, but it's on the thinner side in regards to the pine needles still intact. Dean likes the one that is tall and skinny that has bare spots from missing branches. Castiel points out that it would barely fit in the house but Dean insists that if they’re going to get a tree, it needs to make a statement.  
  
Both of them are arguing, not wanting to give up on their beloved tree. “C’mon Cas. That thing looks like it’s straight out of Charlie Brown’s Christmas. It’s pitiful.”  
  
Castiel doesn’t understand that reference and tells Dean of this, who rolls his eyes muttering something about living under a rock. “Well, your tree looks like if it were human, it was attacked by walkers,” Castiel says, eyeing the gaps and awkwardly bent branches.  
  
“That’s what makes it awesome!” Dean exclaims, a wide, childish smile on his face. In the end, the guy waiting for them to make their decision gives them both trees for a good price just so they leave. Both of them satisfied, the put Cas’ tiny tree in the trunk of the Impala and tie Dean’s to the roof.  
  
When they get back home, Cas smiles smugly at Dean when he barely fits his tree through the door and then realizes, as Cas correctly stated, it’s way too tall. The top is completely smooshed against the ceiling.  
  
“Looks like my tree wins,” Castiel says casually and Dean gives him the dirtiest look.  
  
“Oh shut it, smug ass angel,” Dean mutters before struggling to get the tree back out the front door. Castiel practically prances as he carries in his little tree, which fits perfectly in the corner of the living room by the wide window, although it’s dropping pine needles like there’s no tomorrow.  
  
They decide to set up Dean’s zombie-fied tree in the front yard, which makes Dean happy because everyone will be able to see the “awesomeness that is his tree”.  
  
Castiel just laughs, giving him a “Yeah okay Dean, whatever you say.”  
  
Next they carry in all their bags of decorations. While Dean gets busy stringing lights up on the house, Castiel goes to work hanging the wreath, weaving garland around the porch, and setting up the snowman by their front door. Then, while Dean isn’t looking, he steals a strand of lights and starts weaving it through the branches of the zombie tree.  
  
By the time they’re done, night has fallen and Dean gives Castiel the honors of plugging everything in and the house illuminates into a dazzling display of colorful lights. Dean’s surprised to see his tree lit up and pulls Castiel into a hug, which seems to surprise them both. “Thanks, Cas,” Dean tells him when he pulls away.  
  
“Of course, Dean,” Castiel smiles and they step back to admire their work. It’s nothing compared to the other houses. Some people might actually cringe looking at their sad attempt at decorating with their mismatched lights and garland that was basically falling apart, but Castiel smiles proudly at their work and he looks over to see Dean doing the same.  
  
“C’mon, we gotta do my tree now,” Castiel says, pulling Dean inside. They have one more strand of lights for Castiel’s tree, which they have to wrap around multiple times with how small it is. They decorate it with the few boxes of ornaments they could find. Little snowflakes, green and red glass ornaments, and one ornament for each of them that they picked out as a personal touch. Castiel choose a small cartoon looking bee wearing a Santa hat while Dean picked a mini bottle of whiskey with a red ribbon wrapped around it.  
  
And as per Dean’s old tradition, they tuned the TV into a channel that played constant holiday music. Once they were done, they flopped tiredly on the couch, staring at the little tree in the corner. “Well, I think that’s sufficient enough,” Dean grunts, sprawling out over the couch and nearly crushing Castiel. He chuckles while shoving Dean’s legs off him and stands up.  
  
“I want to take pictures of everything,” he says before disappearing to the bedroom where he kept his camera case. He fitted the right lens to it and made his way back to the living room, pausing at the entrance. A thought comes to him and he brings the camera to his eye. “Dean,” he says, snapping a picture when Dean turns around to look at him.  
  
Dean blinks a few times before an evil smile creeps on his lips. “Oh, you really don’t want to start a picture war with me.”  
  
Castiel shrugs innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about," then he goes about getting multiple shots of the tree. And despite Dean’s protests of it being too cold, he insists on getting pictures of the outside too.  
  
By the time he makes his way back into the house thirty minutes later, shivering with numb fingers, he smells that Dean’s made them dinner. He puts away his coat and camera and peeks into the kitchen to find Dean whirling around the kitchen.  
  
“I hope you like spaghetti,” Dean says, smiling over his shoulder to Castiel.  
  
“Even if I didn’t, I’d eat it simply because you made it,” Castiel says and he decides to go light the fireplace, thinking it was a nice touch to the holiday feel they’ve been working hard to achieve all day.  
  
It isn’t much longer until dinner is done and Dean and Castiel settle themselves on the couch with their bowls of spaghetti and meatballs to watch more of The Walking Dead. This time Dean doesn’t object to zombies not being festive enough. They play the same drinking game when they finish eating, except this time around it’s hot chocolate they’re drinking instead of whiskey. They still find themselves still arguing and giggling as if they were getting tipsy on alcohol though.  
  
When the episode ends, Dean stands up from the couch. “We better get started on those cookies.” Castiel lazily checks his phone and groans.  
  
“Dean, it’s 9. Isn’t it a little late to start cookies? Can’t we just put on another episode?”  
  
“Absolutely not. Come on lazy ass,” Dean instructs and saunters into the kitchen. Castiel watches him with narrowed eyes through the half wall. “C’mon, you gotta measure!” Dean calls without sparing at glance at Castiel.  
  
He rolls his eyes and heaves himself to his feet to shuffle into the kitchen, where Dean has already laid out the ingredients. “What kind are we making?”  
  
“You’re going to be making chocolate chip. Nothing too extravagant. I’m making a cinnamon apple pie,” Dean says, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel shirt.  
  
“What do you mean _I’m_ making them, Dean? I’ll burn the house down!” Castiel protests, despite his hands moving to open packages and prepare the measuring cups.  
  
“No you won’t. I’ll help ya out,” Dean winks before turning back to his pie preparations.  
  
Castiel sighs and begins methodically measuring out everything to the exact degree as the recipe on Dean’s phone calls for. They chat as they work, little things about their life, but mostly Dean telling stories of him and Sam and their friends. Castiel doesn’t mind because the sound of Dean’s voice and the way it gets excited when he talks about his loved ones warms Castiel’s heart. He always liked listening to people.  
  
Something bothers Castiel though. There’s a few times Dean mentions his father, which causes him to frown. Castiel’s been noticing these little mentions, but brushed them off as nothing. But now, as Dean’s telling him about Sam’s recent interests in becoming a lawyer, he abruptly stops, face becoming troubled.  
  
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Castiel asks when he realizes Dean isn’t sharing anymore on the subject.  
  
“Sure it is. It’s just…” Dean sighs as he kneads the dough of the pie crust while Castiel is scooping little balls of cookie dough and placing them on a tray. “My family ain’t exactly the apple pie, sunshine type. My Dad, he’s very protective of Sam and I- well since our mother died.”  
  
“He doesn’t want Sam to go,” Castiel guesses, glancing over at Dean from the corner of his eye.  
  
“No. Very adamantly against it. It’s the reason why Sam’s in Arizona and you’re here,” Dean murmurs. Castiel frowns. The way Dean words it, it’s as if Castiel being here is more bad than good, because if he’s here, it means Sam isn’t. Castiel mentally slaps himself. No no no. He can’t be thinking like this. Stop it right now.  
  
“What about you?” Castiel asks.  
  
“I want my little brother to be happy. God, I want him to have anything his heart desires,” and he hears Dean give a quiet, humorless laugh. “But my Dad also needs someone he can count on. I worry about him and if I don’t support him too, I don’t know what’ll happen,” he says quietly.  
  
Castiel stops what he’s doing to face Dean, dismayed by what he’s hearing. Dean’s making it his responsibility to care for both his father and Sam, even if it means sacrificing his own happiness. “Dean, that isn’t your responsibility. It’s too much for one person to bear,” Castiel tells him carefully.  
  
“It is my responsibility, Cas. Because if it’s not, who will take care of them? There wouldn’t even be a family to take care of anymore,” Dean says harshly, giving Castiel a hard look.  
  
“What about you, Dean Winchester? Who will take care of you?” Castiel says softly, cocking his head to the side.  
  
Dean laughs bitterly, turning away from Castiel. “You and everyone else just needs to butt out of it. I don’t need anyone to take care of me, okay? I’m fine.”  
  
“You said earlier that you wanted to own a restaurant like Ellen. Why not do that?” Castiel presses, remembering Dean mention something like that when they passed by The Roadhouse on their hunt for decorations. He wants so bad to make Dean see he can do so much more with his life than beat himself up over things he can’t control.  
  
“Because it’s not important, Cas. It’s just something I said. I’m happy working at the shop with Bobby. I like building cars and fixing them. I don’t see why that’s a problem,” Dean argues.  
  
“Because it’s what your Dad wants. Not you.” Castiel crosses his arms.  
  
“Well what about you?” Dean growls.  
  
Castiel furrows his brow. “What about me?”  
  
“You love photography and you’re really good at it, but yet you’re working for some shitty newspaper where that crazy ex-girlfriend is. Why don’t you work for a photography firm or go independent?”  
  
Castiel’s mouth drops open. He didn’t realize how much Dean’s actually been paying attention. “This isn’t about me. You’re changing the subject,” Castiel hisses, starting to get impatient with the flour dusted man in front of him.  
  
Dean tosses his hands into the air, dispersing a white cloud of flour with them and shouts “Why do you care, Cas?”  
  
The question takes Castiel off guard. He isn’t sure how to answer, because he can’t exactly tell the truth. He’s not supposed to have feelings for Dean, and telling him this now will only scare him away and Cas will be one more person that Dean caused heartbreak.  
  
“Because you’re a person, Dean. A person who’s been incredibly kind and welcoming to me since I got here and I think you deserve more,” Castiel says, trying to keep his voice steady.  
  
“Stop patronizing me. Just because we fucked doesn’t entitle you to give a damn!” Dean yells.  
  
Castiel’s heart drops into his stomach and he feels frozen in place. And that’s why Castiel needed to shut up. That’s why he just needed to just shut his fucking mouth. He nods once. “Okay, Dean.” He turns to make his way outside when he feels a hand grab onto his.  
  
“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean whispers, voice quivering. “I-I shouldn’t have said that.”  
  
“It’s fine, Dean. I understand,” he says calmly even though a lump has formed in throat that makes it hard to breathe.  
  
“No, it’s not. Dammit, I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have said that.”  
  
Castiel looks at him and his heart nearly breaks again to see the pure self-loathing that’s written all over Dean’s face. Without thinking, Castiel reaches forward and tilts Dean’s chin so he’s forced to look him in the eyes.  
  
“Dean, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressed you on the subject,” Castiel apologizes. Dean’s eyes are glassy as if tears will spill over at any moment and before Castiel can talk himself out of it, he reaches forward and presses his lips tenderly against Dean’s.  
  
Dean kisses him back with trembling lips and Castiel rubs his thumb soothingly over Dean’s knuckles, which were still holding him close. He feels something wet against their lips and then tastes the saltiness that spreads over his tongue. He pulls back to look at Dean, who quickly rubs at his eyes to hide the evidence.  
  
“No chick flick moments,” he smirks, pulling away to return to his pie.  
  
Castiel frowns sadly at him as he flicks flour onto the counter to roll out of the dough. He hopes that maybe Dean will start thinking a little more about himself rather than everyone else. But something is still tugging at Castiel. And he just needs to say it.  
  
“Look, Dean, I don’t know what exactly is going on between us,” Castiel starts and Dean looks up, eyes guarded. “But I like spending time with you. Despite what you may feel, I genuinely care about you.”  
  
“I care about you too, Cas,” Dean murmurs, eyes still not revealing anything.  
  
“Then you can see how this will all be complicated when it comes time for me to leave,” Castiel sighs, leaning against the counter. Dean nods but doesn’t say anything.  
  
“Why don’t we save ourselves the trouble and just enjoy this. And when we part, no hard feelings, no expectations, no heartbreak.”  
  
Dean snickers, “Well, aren’t you romantic.”  
  
“I’m serious, Dean. Might as well have the best time we can and when I have to go, we’ll always have these great memories.” Castiel isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince more of this idea, Dean or himself. But he can’t spend the rest of his time in Lawrence and not be close to Dean. Besides, this is still the same deal that they made that first night, only now the expiration date has been moved to when he leaves.  
  
Dean purses his lips as he thinks this over and without warning, tosses a handful of flour at Castiel. He gasps, stumbling backwards and spitting out white dust. “Dean!”  
  
Dean smiles mischievously. “Whoops, my bad.” He throws a wink to Castiel, who reaches forward and tosses a good handful of flour back at him. Dean laughs, sputtering a “Hey!” and Castiel leans forward to lick the white powder clean from Dean’s lips.  
  
They spend the rest of the evening stealthily trying to toss flour at the other while stealing bites from the cookie dough. Once everything is in the oven, they clean themselves of flour and settle down for a movie while they wait, even though it’s going on 11 o’clock now. Dean insists on watching a special movie that he swears Castiel will enjoy.  
  
They snuggle together on the couch because, thanks to their amended deal, they can do this now without questions asked. The movie turns out to be a Disney movie called _Frozen_. And when it ends, Castiel knows exactly who Elsa is and why the cold doesn’t bother her anyway.  
  
“You seem fond of that movie,” Castiel remarks when the credits start to play.  
  
“Shut up,” Dean says, laying a sloppy kiss against Castiel’s temple and gets up to check the pie and cookies. Both of them appear to be done and Dean pulls them out, setting them on cooling racks. “These’ll be good for Christmas,” he comments as he returns to the couch and flops down next to Castiel.  
  
Castiel nods in agreement, inhaling the sweet scent of the cinnamon apples mingled with the chocolate chip cookies, leaning back into the couch. “Hey Cas, do ya have any plans for Christmas?”  
  
Castiel laughs at the absurdity of the question. “Of course not.”  
  
“Do you want to come over? We don’t have anything big, but Bobby and Ellen will be there. Basically everyone you met the other day,” Dean offers shyly.  
  
“I’d be honored to, Dean. As long as they don’t mind me being there,” Castiel smiles.  
  
“Of course not! I know Charlie is aching to see you again,” Dean chuckles, rolling his eyes.  
  
Castiel leans over, giving Dean a gentle kiss. “I look forward to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one ended up being a little longer, but I hope you enjoyed! <3  
> [My tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

Christmas can’t come fast enough for Castiel. Dean slept over again but had to leave early in the morning for work, which unfortunately meant no amazing breakfast. In fact, he didn’t get to see much of Dean in the morning because he was leaving just as Castiel woke up, which disappointed him, even when Dean told him he didn’t want to disturb him.  
  
And now Castiel isn’t sure how to spend his day without Dean. He didn’t realize how much he craved his company until he was alone. But then he gets an idea; he wants to give Dean present. Although he has no idea what.  
  
He hops in Sam’s car and decides to take a drive through town to window shop. Maybe something will come to him then.  
  
He spends all day going from store to store in search of the right gift, but nothing seems right. Castiel wants to give him something with meaning; not just a piece of jewelry or a bottle of Dean’s favorite whiskey, although he’s sure Dean would be thrilled for the latter, to Castiel’s dismay.  
  
He heads to The Roadhouse, thinking maybe Ellen or Jo could help him. And he wants to sit down desperately. His feet are killing him from all the walking he’s done today. It’s as he’s walking in that an idea comes to him.  
  
“Hello Ellen,” he greets her.  
  
“What’s going on sweetie?” she asks with a smile.  
  
“I need to talk to you about Dean,” he sits at the bar, sliding off the gloves that Dean gave him yesterday. Dean’s been scolding him that he would get frostbite if he didn’t start wearing gloves and Castiel told him he’d get a pair, but apparently not quick enough for Dean.  
  
Ellen raises an eyebrow and Castiel ducks his head to hide the blush that he’s sure is spreading across his numb cheeks. He isn’t sure if anyone else knows about the complicated thing he and Dean have, but they’ve got to have their theories. “What about Dean?”  
  
“I want to give him a present for Christmas for, uh, being so kind to me since I’ve been here but I need your help. That is, if you’re willing.”  
  
Ellen nods and Castiel launches into his idea, trying to describe his vision the best he can. By the end, she’s looking at Castiel with a surprised expression and he’s not sure how to take this. “Do you think he’ll like it?” he asks nervously.  
  
Ellen exhales. “I don’t think anyone’s ever put that much thought into a gift for Dean, besides Sam that is. But the damn boy refuses to let anyone give him anything. Even has a strict no present policy. But yes, I think he’ll appreciate it.”  
  
Castiel exhales in relief, not caring one bit about Dean’s no gifts rule. He’s going to have to suck it up. He drives home even more determined, eager for Ellen to deliver the crucial part so he can begin.  
  
But it’s Jo that ends up knocking on Castiel’s door late in the evening with the requests he gave to Ellen.  
  
“Mom sent me to deliver these. She’s swamped at the bar. Who knew so many people wanted to spend Christmas Eve in a bar?” she says, looking exhausted.  
  
Castiel laughs, taking the manila envelope from her. “Beats me. Thank you for this, Jo.”  
  
A knowing smile lightens up her tired features. “No problem, Castiel.” She pauses, as if unsure to say something but says it anyway. “I think this is really nice. What you’re doing for Dean, I mean.”  
  
Castiel just shrugs. “He’s been very welcoming. The least I can do is get him something he might like as a thank you.”  
  
Jo shakes her head gently, still smiling. “I think you’re good for him. He can be a little… lost sometimes. But I think you can finally get through to him. God knows the rest of us have tried.”  
  
Castiel feels his heart accelerate with her words and tiny flutters tickle his stomach. Jo is saying some powerful things, and as much as Castiel is soaring from hearing this, he can’t mislead her. “I hope I can get through to him too. But Jo, I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.” Her face looks confused and her eyebrows knit together. Castiel swallows and continues. “Dean and I are just friends.”  
  
Jo snickers under her breath. “Oh sorry, my bad.” She turns and makes her way to her car calling over her shoulder, “See ya tomorrow!”  
  
Castiel stares after her, bewildered by her reaction but retreats back into the house to get started on constructing Dean’s present.  
  


  


* * *

The next morning, he wakes later than he wanted to. He stayed up later than expected working on Dean’s present. And it was a close one. He barely made it to the store before it closed and had to beg the manager to help him out. But thankfully, it’s complete.  
  
The tiredness is quickly replaced with excitement. Christmas morning. Today he will get to see Dean and the hours can’t go by fast enough.  
  
He decides to call Jess, feeling guilty he hasn’t talked to her since the first day he arrived. She picks up by the third ring.  
  
“Castiel! Merry Christmas!” she sings.  
  
“Merry Christmas, Jess. How are you?” he cracks a smile. He really does miss his best friend.  
  
“Oh Castiel, you have no idea. It’s been the best Christmas ever,” she sighs dreamily.  
  
“Best Christmas? It’s barely even noon,” Castiel smirks.  
  
“Oh, I can’t wait to tell you, but you’ll think I’m crazy.”  
  
“Not as crazy as me, I’ll bet,” Castiel sighs.  
  
For a moment, the line is quiet and Castiel thinks the call might’ve dropped until Jess’ voice is low on the other end. “Cassie, did you meet someone?”  
  
“What makes you say that?” he asks slowly, unsure whether he should tell Jess about Dean.  
  
“Because I know you. Now tell me,” she demands.  
  
Castiel rolls his eyes but gives in. “Fine. I met someone.”  
  
“Who? Who is it?” she asks in a high pitched squeal that makes him pull the phone away from his ear until she stops.  
  
“You know the guy I traded houses with? His brother.”  
  
“No way! Oh my goodness, Castiel!” she laughs.  
  
“Don’t get your hopes up though. It’s not what you think,” Castiel sighs sadly.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Castiel groans inwardly, not wanting to dive into details. “It’s not going to last.”  
  
“Why not?” Jess protests.  
  
“Because Jess, it will never work out. I live in Arizona and he lives here. He’s way too good for me anyway,” Castiel mutters.  
  
“Excuses excuses. What makes you think it’ll end when you leave?” Jess asks and Castiel hesitates before answering, knowing she’ll rip him apart.  
  
“Well… because I kind of told him nothing will come of it. It’s just for fun and we leave with nothing more than good memories,” he says quietly. Jess is silent for a long time and Castiel can only imagine her fuming right now.  
  
“Castiel! You idiot! Why would you say that?” her voice is incredulous and furious.  
  
“Jess, you have to see this guy to understand. There’s no way I would get away without getting heartbroken and I- I just can’t handle that right now. I really can’t. I didn’t even want to get involved with someone during this trip, but I failed that. So this is the next best thing. Besides, he agrees with me. He hates hurting people and I can’t have him feeling terrible for hurting yet another person.”  
  
“How can you be so sure he wants that?” she challenges.  
  
“Because he agreed. He said it takes the pressure off. I don’t see how this is a bad thing,” he argues back.  
  
“Castiel, even if you say no feelings allowed, I know you’re already falling for this guy. Or else why wouldn’t you have told me about him to begin with? You can’t torture yourself like this. It isn’t fair to you,” Jess tells him gently.  
  
“No, I’m not letting myself fall. For once I don’t want to mess this up.”  
  
“Don’t you hear yourself? You’re not making sense,” she sighs. And he knows she’s right. It doesn’t make sense, but he’s what he has to work with. He has to balance his desire to be around Dean without letting himself feel for the guy.  
  
“Jess, don’t worry about me. Listen, I gotta go get ready. I’m spending Christmas with some of his family and friends and I’ll be leaving soon,” he tells her, hoping she’ll drop it.  
  
She snorts and Castiel can imagine her shaking her head. “Okay. Merry Christmas. Kiss him under the mistletoe, would ya?” Castiel rolls his eyes, wishing her a Merry Christmas once more before hanging up.  
  
He eats breakfast, which is more like brunch now, disappointed that it isn’t Dean’s delicious banana pancakes. After, he jumps into the shower, letting the warm, steaming water destress his body and clear his mind. He can’t try to sort out his feelings for Dean. Not now, not today.  
  
It works, to an extent. When he gets out and dresses, he decides that he should probably call Sam and wish him a Merry Christmas too. They’ve talked a few times since the switch and Castiel considers Sam something like a friend now. Sam picks up almost right away.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Hey Sam, it’s Castiel.”  
  
“Oh! Hey Castiel! Merry Christmas,” Sam tells him happily.  
  
“Merry Christmas. I thought I’d call and check in,” Castiel says with a smile.  
  
“Yeah, of course. Uh, hold on, my brother is calling on the other line,” Sam says, voice sounding faint as he must be holding the phone back to look at the number.  
  
“Oh, would you tell him I said hi?” Castiel says suddenly, hoping his giddiness isn’t too apparent in his voice.  
  
“Yeah… sure,” and then the line goes dead as Sam switches the call. Castiel leans back into the couch, watching the flickering flames in the fireplace.  
  
“Castiel?” Sam’s voice is back quicker than he anticipated.  
  
“I’m here,” he tells him.  
  
“Um, Dean says hi, by the way, and not to forget the pie,” Sam says slowly.  
  
Castiel can’t help but smile like a grade school child who found out their crush likes them back. “Did he say what he was up to?”  
  
“No, I’ll ask him...” Sam says before it’s quiet again. “Dude, what the fuck! You’re sleeping with Castiel? You said there was no funny business, and yet you turn around and bang the guy I traded houses with! Real classy, Dean!” Sam’s voice is loud and upset on the other end of the phone and Castiel gasps.  
  
“He told you about that?” Castiel asks in a horrified voice.  
  
“What?” There’s a pause. “Oh shit, sorry Cas! I thought I was talking to Dean!”  
  
“Oh God, I’m so sorry Sam,” is all he can say as he hides his face in his hands.  
  
“No, don’t be! I didn’t mean- I’m sorry I- Listen, I’ll talk to you later,” Sam stammers awkwardly on the other end.  
  
“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Castiel agrees and then they exchange an awkward goodbye.  
  
Now that Castiel feels like he wants to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment, he flips on Netflix and buries himself in a cocoon of blankets until it’s time for him to leave.  
  
He’s surprised when he hears knocking at the door, not sure who would be stopping by, especially today. He opens it to see Dean standing there, smiling with wind ruffled hair.  
  
“Hey Cas. Merry Christmas,” he tells him.  
  
“Dean, Merry Christmas. What are you doing here?” Castiel questions, although it’s not like he’s disappointed at this unexpected visit.  
  
Dean shrugs. “I thought I’d pick ya up since you don’t know where Ellen’s place is.”  
  
Castiel pulls Dean inside the warmth of the house and closes the door. “You didn’t have to do that.”  
  
“I wanted to.” Dean says, shoving his hands in his pockets.  
  
Castiel rolls his eyes and grabs his trench coat and fetches the pie and cookies they made the other night from the fridge. He hands them to Dean and tells him he’ll meet him out in the car, he just has to grab his camera. Dean complies and heads out, leaving Castiel to grab his camera bag and conceal the gift inside his trench coat. He awkwardly holds the present between his arm and side, grateful that he had the sense to come up with an idea that was reasonably small. But it was small a challenge to hold without Dean noticing something was off.  
  
“You better be ready for some Christmas cheer,” Dean chuckles as Castiel joins him in the Impala, clearly excited. This confuses him because if he remembers correctly, Dean said they didn’t do much of anything for Christmas anymore. He decides not to question it. As long as Dean is happy, he won’t rain on his parade.  
  
It’s only a short car ride to Ellen’s house, which is sparsely decorated, but Castiel can’t help but comment that Ellen should hire him and Dean to decorate for her.  
  
“She should. No one does a better job than us, Cas,” he states proudly as he steps out of the car and meets Castiel at the passenger side and taking the pie and cookies from him.  
  
They walk up the path to the front door, Dean childishly ringing the doorbell several times and snickering under his breath.  
  
Jo answers the door, eyes unamused at Dean’s antics. “Will you ever get bored of doing that?”  
  
“Never,” Dean smirks and tries to step inside the house but Jo stops him.  
  
“Hold on there,” she says with a smirk herself, eyes flickering up above their heads. Castiel and Dean follow her gaze to a little bunch of leaves hanging in the doorway. Mistletoe.  
  
Castiel’s face starts burning up and he isn’t sure what to do. Clearly his conversation with her yesterday went over her head or she didn’t buy what Castiel was selling. “Well aren’t you a clever girl,” Dean rolls his eyes at Jo before lifting Cas’ chin to meet his lips. It’s a pleasant kiss, even if it’s over too soon. Jo just giggles and steps aside to let them both in. Castiel glances at Jo, squinting his eyes at her suspiciously and she just shrugs innocently, Dean missing the entire exchange.  
  
“Merry Christmas!” Dean bellows to the house and a small chorus of greetings filter from further in the house. He pulls off his coat, tossing it over Jo’s head before strolling towards the voices.  
  
“Hey! Don’t be rude,” she calls after Dean who ignores her and she rolls her eyes, turning back to Castiel. “Don’t give me that look. He didn’t have to kiss you,” she says as she hangs Dean’s coat in the closet.  
  
“And I’m sure you thought he wouldn’t,” Castiel says sarcastically, shedding his coat and handing it to her.  
  
“I guess we’ll never know,” she gives him a mischievous smile and hangs his up too. Castiel can’t help but laugh as he rolls his eyes. He looks down at the present that still sits in his hands, unsure what to do with it. He didn’t want to give it to Dean now, but he had nowhere to put it without everyone seeing it.  
  
As if Jo was reading his mind, she holds out her hand to take it. “I’ll hide it in here for you in here until you’re ready.”  
  
He smiles gratefully at her and hands over the little package. “Thank you, Jo.”  
  
She snorts and takes it. “Just go be with him, will ya? He went that way.” she says as she points him in the right direction.  
  
Castiel sucks in a nervous breath before walking through the doorway of the living room. Bobby is sitting on the couch with a man that looks vaguely familiar watching TV while Benny and Charlie are there too watching something on her phone, laughing every few seconds.  
  
“Castiel! You made it!” Charlie gasps, abandoning her video and springing from the couch to throw her arms around his shoulders. Castiel freezes at the impact of her hug, the breath knocked out of him but he manages to wrap his arms around her.  
  
“Hello, Charlie. It’s good to see you again,” he tells her through a mouthful of red hair.  
  
She steps back, smiling wide. “I hope you’re ready for some Cards Against Humanity!”  
  
Castiel smiles and nods, giving an awkward wave to the others.  
  
“Nice to see you again, boy,” Bobby says with a nod. Benny also greets him but all Castiel can do is try not to give him a dirty look. Ever since Benny made that comment about Dean helping him when he first came here, Castiel’s felt a certain dislike for him. He isn’t sure if Dean and Benny have a romantic past, but if Dean helped Benny out anything like he’s helped Castiel, it’s a given that something happened between the two of them.  
  
Thankfully, Dean saunters into the living room, nibbling on something. “Hey Cas, wanna help out in the kitchen?”  
  
Castiel nods but both of them stop when the man who has yet to say anything to Castiel speaks up. “Dean, don’t be rude. Introduce me to your new friend.”  
  
Castiel glances to Dean who has put on a stone face. He gets an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. “Cas, this is my Dad, John Winchester. Dad, this is Castiel.”  
  
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Castiel says, offering John his hand in greeting. John looks at it like it’s diseased but eventually leans forward to shake it.  
  
“I’d say the same if it didn’t mean my son was off in some other state,” John says bitterly.  
  
Castiel clears his throat, unsure what to say to that, but Dean pipes up tiredly. “Dad, can we please not do this today?”  
  
“Take it easy, John. Not this boy’s fault any of this happened,” Bobby says beside him. John holds his hands up in surrender.  
  
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he apologizes, but doesn’t necessarily say it to Castiel. Dean reaches forward to pull him into the kitchen where Ellen and Jo are busy cooking.  
  
“Sorry about that, Cas,” Dean mutters to him and Castiel shrugs. Of course John might hold something against Castiel. Him being here means Sam isn’t. If John is to blame anyone about what’s happened, let him blame Castiel. Not Dean. Besides, Sam should be here, not him.  
  
“Don’t worry about it, Dean,” he tells him, knowing it’s futile. Dean will worry about it no matter what he says.  
  
“Finally. Winchester, you come cook,” Jo sighs dramatically, standing up from the kitchen table where she was skinning potatoes. Dean rolls his eyes and takes her place while she skips into the living room to join the others. Castiel sits across from Dean and Ellen sets a large bowl of various vegetables in front of him.  
  
“You’re on cutting duty,” Ellen says before returning to her numerous other dishes. Castiel nods and picks up a knife to begin chopping everything into small pieces. They both concentrate on their tasks, but Castiel desperately wants to bring up his phone call with Sam this morning.  
  
Ellen disappears from the room and Castiel takes advantage of the opportunity. “So, uh, Sam knows about… us,” Castiel says casually, eyes flicking up to Dean.  
  
Dean laughs, tossing a freshly skinned potato in a bowl. “Yeah, he told me about his little slip up with the phone.”  
  
“He said how you told him ‘no funny business’,” Castiel murmurs, dropping his eyes back to his cutting.  
  
Dean snorts. “Yeah Cas, I didn’t tell him about what I did because he’s my brother. He doesn’t need to know everything about my sex life.”  
  
Castiel frowns. “What about the others?”  
  
“What about them?”  
  
“Have you told them about us?”  
  
Dean stops his peeling, looking at Castiel in confusion. “No. What’s this about, Cas?”  
  
Castiel shrugs, concentrating on his cutting. “I’m just curious. I would want to know if anyone is aware of our relationship.”  
  
Dean shrugs. “There’s nothing really to tell. We know what it is and that’s all that matters.”  
  
Maybe it’s the selfish part of Castiel that wants Dean to proclaim them to the world, but Dean’s right. What is there to proclaim? They’re nothing but friends with benefits until Castiel leaves in a few days. But an admittedly big part of Castiel wishes that wasn’t the case, which doesn’t make sense because he’s the one who set their expectations in the first place.  
  
“What about that kiss in front of Jo?” he asks.  
  
Dean scoffs. “It was mistletoe. And she’s always trying to embarrass me. Can’t let her win.”  
  
Castiel nods. “Yeah, I guess,” is what he settles with saying and drops the subject just in time for Ellen to stroll back in. He hopes that she hasn’t overheard their conversation but she shows no acknowledgement of it.  
  
When Castiel finishes his chore, he sits back and watches Dean and Ellen do a sort of dance as they both work together to prepare the dinner.  
  
“Well Ellen, I don’t know about you, but I think all this will taste great,” Dean says when they shove the last dish into the oven to cook.  
  
Ellen smirks. “It better. You’re the one who insisted on this great big feast. Why we couldn’t just sit back and have a beer like we normally do is beyond me.” She winks at Castiel before disappearing into the living room. Castiel looks back to Dean who is light shade of pink.  
  
“You insisted?” Castiel says, trying to withhold a smile.  
  
Dean rolls his eyes. “I told you, I wanted to have a better Christmas than we usually do this year. Sue me.”  
  
“Well, I think it’s nice,” Castiel says, only adding a touch of teasing to his voice. He lets go of all his worries from earlier. He’s getting too edgy about all this when it’s supposed to be fun. And he’ll be damned if he lets himself ruin the fun.  
  
“Yeah yeah. Just help me get plates and silverware out,” Dean says, nudging Castiel’s shoulder. He stands up, bumping Dean playfully before they set up the plates and utensils.  
  
For a brief moment, they’re standing side by side in front of the counter when they’re done and they’re so close, staring into each other’s eyes and Castiel could easily lean forward to kiss Dean, which he has the over whelming urge to do. He’s about to before they hear an awkward cough at the doorway and Castiel turns to see Benny standing there. Castiel feels that flutter of annoyance in him and steps back from Dean.  
  
“Sorry to interrupt, but we were wondering if you guys were ready for some Cards Against Humanity?”  
  
“You’re not interrupting anything,” Dean says and starts for the doorway, leaving Cas feeling disappointed. Right. Not interrupting anything. “Cas? Ya coming?” Dean’s voice reminds him to follow.  
  
The three of them settle around the coffee table where Charlie and Jo are setting up the cards in neat stacks.  
  
“Why don’t you play something more practical like poker?” John Winchester grunts. “At least you can win money with that.”  
  
“That’s not the point. We’re just playing for fun,” Dean mutters.  
  
“Winning money sounds fun to me.” John retorts.  
  
“Alright idjit, you me and Ellen after dinner.” Bobby says to John.  
  
John laughs. “You’re so on.”  
  


  


* * *

The evening passes by in a blur of delicious food and laughter and spiked eggnog and hot chocolate and even Christmas karaoke. Castiel pulls out his camera and starts snapping photos of everyone, with the exception of John and Benny. He avoids those two for the most part.  
  
At some point in the evening, Sam gets pulled up on Skype and everyone gathers around to talk to him, but careful not to tell John. Castiel watches them all, smiling at seeing how much they all care about each other. It especially warms his heart to see Dean when he’s talking to Sam. He cares so much about his little brother. And from what Castiel can tell, Sam is missing Dean just as much.  
  
The call gets cut short when John finds out what’s going on. At first, they exchange tense greetings but then launch into an argument and the call ends. Castiel worries as stress settles over Dean’s face from the outburst. He can tell Dean’s already taking the blame for the sour note on the evening and Castiel wishes he could hold Dean tightly and attempt to put his mind at ease. Everyone else brushes off the incident, not letting the mood be drowned by the awkward encounter, but Castiel isn’t satisfied with that course of action.  
  
“Hey, can I talk to you for a moment?” Castiel whispers to Dean as they watch Charlie, Jo and Benny kill it on Rock Band.  
  
Dean furrows his eyebrows in confusion but nods. “Sure, Cas.”  
  
They stand up from the couch and Dean leads Castiel up some stairs and into a dark bedroom, which he’s assuming is Jo’s.  
  
“You two behave up there!” He hears Jo call after them.  
  
“No promises!” Dean calls back, flipping on the light and shutting the door behind them. “What’s up, Cas?”  
  
“I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.” Castiel says, almost feeling ridiculous bringing him up here to say this small thing.  
  
“Why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
Castiel shrugs. “Well, you seemed distraught after the thing with Sam and your father. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t beating yourself up over it.” He’s fully aware this conversation could go completely south like it did the last time he tried talking to Dean about his family, but he needed to try.  
  
“I appreciate the concern, Cas. But don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with them later. I mean, I’ll have to deal with it soon enough.”  
  
Castiel shakes his head, taking a step closer to Dean. “Do you realize how painful it is to see you worry so much about everyone else besides yourself?”  
  
Dean’s expression is already dismissing Castiel’s words. “It’s complicated. Just like us. We’re complicated. Life is complicated.” Castiel frowns before leaning forward and kissing Dean. If words aren’t working, maybe this will. Dean seems surprised by the kiss but it doesn’t take long to kiss him back. Castiel regretfully pulls away after a moment, deciding now might be a good time to give him his present.  
  
“I’ll be right back. Stay here,” he tells Dean who raises his eyebrows questioningly.  
  
Castiel hurries downstairs to the closet and digs around for the present, finding it safely stashed in a bin of scarves and hats and mittens. He makes it back up the stairs in only a few moments. Dean’s eyes fall on the present and he holds his holds out as if he was repulsed by it.  
  
“No Cas, no gifts. You shouldn’t have done that.”  
  
Castiel steps towards him, pushing the present into his hands. “Dean, just take it.”  
  
“This is too much,” Dean shakes his head, staring down at the green wrapping paper that’s sprinkled with tiny candy canes.  
  
“You don’t even know what it is,” Castiel says flatly. “Just open it.”  
  
Dean frowns at him before he carefully tears the paper. Castiel hears Dean suck in a breath when it’s revealed; a dark rustic, wooden picture frame with five photographs. Four individual photos of his mother, Sam, John and him arranged around a photo of the four of them sitting together on a couch, his mother snuggled under John’s arm and Sam just a tiny baby in Dean’s four year old arms. And they look happy. Smiling and happy.  
  
“Cas…” Dean breaths out, staring down at the picture, his fingers shakily reaching out to touch the portrait of his mother. These are the things that Castiel requested Ellen to get for him. He made copies of all the pictures, which he was barely able to get, and choose the frame to something he thought was more Dean’s style.  
  
“Do you like it?” Castiel asks timidly, worried that maybe this upset him more than made him happy.  
  
Dean looks up at him, green eyes wide and then pulls Castiel into a tight embrace. “Cas, I love it. How did you…?”  
  
Castiel hugs him back tightly. “Ellen helped me get them. I still have the originals though.”  
  
Dean pulls back to stare at the pictures again. “After my mom died… Dad took down all pictures. It was too painful for him to see every day. I could never look at them without worrying he might catch me and take them away.”  
  
Castiel brushes his fingers along Dean’s arm in comfort. “Now you can. They’re all yours.”  
  
Dean’s eyes are watery and he pulls Castiel close again, this time to kiss him. There’s so much emotion behind the kiss it makes Castiel’s knees weak. He can feel every bit of pain, sadness and joy behind the kiss. Dean pulls back and Castiel finds himself chasing his lips before righting himself and straightening up.  
  
“I have something for you too,” Dean tells him.  
  
Castiel crosses his arms. “You had something for me when you were about to refuse my gift to you?”  
  
Dean shrugs with a smile. “Guess so. Wait here.” And this time, it’s Castiel who has to wait anxiously for Dean to reappear, which he does a minute later. He hands Castiel something that feels soft under the snowflake covered blue wrapping paper. Castiel opens it carefully to expose a dark blue knitted scarf.  
  
A smile comes to face at the gift. Dean’s been telling him for as long as he’s here that besides gloves, he needed a scarf or else he might get sick. He pulls the rest of it from the wrapping and unfolds it, noting the small letters D.W stitched into the corner with light blue thread.  
  
“It’s beautiful, Dean.” Castiel says, wrapping it around his neck and burying his mouth behind it, feeling the softness against his lips. It smells familiar though.  
  
“I hope so. My Mom made it,” Dean says. Castiel’s eyes widen as he looks at Dean.  
  
“What?”  
  
Dean nods. “Yep. Used to be mine when I was little.”  
  
Castiel’s mouth drops open as his eyes flicker from the scarf to Dean and back and forth. No wonder it smelled familiar. It smells like Dean. “Dean, I can’t possibly accept this.” He unwraps it from his neck and tries handing it back to Dean, who scoots farther away to avoid getting the scarf shoved back into his hands.  
  
“I want you to have it, Cas.” Dean chuckles. “Without it, you’re gonna get pneumonia and then I’m gonna be pissed.”  
  
Castiel shakes his head, ignoring Dean’s teasing. “Dean, this is way too much. This is yours, it’s from your _mother_.”  
  
“And now it’s yours. She made me a green one just like that one so don't worry about it. Just say thank you that I saved your life,” Dean says, winking at Castiel. He sighs, running his thumb over the letters stitched into the corner. D.W. Dean Winchester.  
  
“Thank you, Dean. I love it.” Dean walks forward, placing his hands gently against either side of Castiel’s face and pulls him in for a deep kiss. Castiel wraps an arm around Dean’s waist and pulls him so their bodies were pressed against each other and a small groan escapes Dean’s lips. Castiel parts his lips to allow Dean’s tongue to slip inside and softly caress his.  
  
A pounding on the door startles them both and they jump back. “Yeah?” Dean says breathily.  
  
“You two joining the rest of us for desert or not?” It’s John. Dean gives Castiel a concerned look before answering.  
  
“Uh yeah, we’ll be down in a few.”  
  
“Dean, you’ve been hiding up here long enough. Come on.” John says impatiently. Dean growls softly under his breath and grabs the picture frame from Jo’s bed and flings the door open. John’s eyes immediately drop down to what Dean is holding. “What’s that?”  
  
“Nothing. Cas gave me a present,” he mutters, trying to shoulder his way past John.  
  
“Well, let me see it.” John says, reaching for the frame. Castiel sees Dean tense, pulling the frame away from John seemingly out of reflex but resigns, handing it over to John like a little kid who is in trouble. A myriad of emotions crosses John's face; shock, happiness, love, sadness, distraught, and then anger.  
  
“You gave this to him?” John asks, now looking at Castiel.  
  
Castiel nods gently, not liking the coldness that’s settled on John’s face. “Yes, sir.”  
  
“What gives you the right?” John says disturbingly quiet. “What gives you the right to waltz in here and take our pictures and keep my boys away from me?” His voice is starting to rise.  
  
“Dad, leave him alone.” Dean says, backing up to shield Castiel with his body.  
  
“I meant no disrespect, sir.” Castiel says apologetically. Shit. He’s went and done it now. So much for a good impression.  
  
“To hell you didn’t. First Sam, now Dean. Would you like anything else?” John asks sarcastically.  
  
“Shut the hell up!” Dean shouts, body ridged. This turns John’s attention to Dean.  
  
“And you. What’s with you Dean? Sam leaves and all of a sudden you’ve gone rogue? Disobedient, disrespectful, showing up late to work, no doubt sleeping around with _him_ ,” John shakes his head.  
  
“Hey John, why don’t we go sit down?” Ellen’s voice sounds from the hallway and Castiel can see she’s laid a hand on his shoulder.  
  
John casts one last angry glare at Castiel and Dean before nodding and following Ellen back downstairs, taking the photos with him.  
  
“Dean,” Castiel murmurs quietly. How in the hell is he supposed to pull Dean out of this?  
  
“I’m so sorry, Cas,” Dean whispers and, lacing his fingers with Castiel’s, he leads him downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed, as always! Thank you for reading and thank you to those who leave kudos, it is much appreciated! (:  
> [My tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	7. Chapter 7

Jo, Charlie and Benny try their best to lighten up the evening, but this time Dean’s defeated. Castiel can see his shoulders slump forward as if the weight of the world was just set there. Not even the pie that Dean’s been so excited for cheers him up. So they all eat quietly while they listen to Bobby, Ellen and John play poker in the kitchen.  
  
“Hey brother, don’t worry about it. We still had a great time,” Benny offers reassuringly after five minutes of silence. Even though Castiel wants him to put a sock in it, he’s glad that Benny said it because it makes Dean finally meet everyone else’s gazes.  
  
“Thanks. But we better get going. I suggest you guys do too,” Dean says, standing up after finishing the last bite of his pie. Charlie gives Dean the biggest hug, not saying anything and Dean holds her tight as if his life depended on it.  
  
When she pulls away, she does some sort of hand signal Castiel’s not familiar with and says, “Merry Christmas, bitches” before leaving. The others laugh lightly and Castiel’s happy to see she managed to get Dean to crack a smile, even if it is a small one.  
  
Everyone else says their goodbyes and wishes each other a Merry Christmas and before they leave, Ellen hands Dean the picture frame inconspicuously, which seems to cheer up Dean the slightest. Castiel stands back after receiving his share of hugs, watching as Dean gets wrapped in embraces and told promises of meeting again soon and Castiel feels relief. He’s relieved that after he leaves, he knows Dean has plenty of people he can lean on, whether he allows himself to or not. And sure, they’ve been there the entire time, but maybe now Dean will actually realize it’s not bad to need people. It’s not bad to be taken care of for a change. That’s Castiel’s goal, anyway.  
  
The ride home is quiet, but not uncomfortable. Castiel only wishes there was something he could do to make Dean happy, to chase away the storm clouds that darken his beautiful green eyes. Maybe calling Sam would help. No, that would only remind Dean that he has to worry about his little brother and of what happened.  
  
When Dean pulls into Sam’s driveway, he parks, still not saying anything. “Do you want to stay over again?” Castiel asks, looking over at him.  
  
Dean lifts his tired eyes to meet Castiel’s and smiles. “Cas, I’d love that.” Castiel smiles softly, wrapping his scarf tightly around his neck even though it’s only a few paces until they’re inside the warm house.  
  
They climb out of the Impala and Castiel stops, looking up. Small, white flurries are floating down from the sky. Snow.  
  
A smile spreads over his face and he hurries around to the driver’s side, where Dean is watching Castiel with curious eyes that still shine despite the darkness. “Cas?”  
  
“Dean, it’s snowing!” he says excitedly, looking back to the sky. Dean follows his gaze and chuckles.  
  
“Wow, it sure is.” The snow starts to fall in bigger, fatter flakes, the pace picking up. Castiel takes off a glove and holds out his hand and watches as the flakes settle against his skin, melting on impact. The feeling of complete happiness overwhelms him. It’s beautiful. The snow is beautiful.  
  
Castiel looks to Dean who’s been watching him with an amused smirk. “First snow fall is always the best,” Dean says.  
  
“I bet they’re all great,” Castiel says, stepping close to Dean to inspect some of the flakes that’s landed in his hair, still perfectly intact. He squints, observing the unique shapes they have. “It’s crazy to think each little white speck is this intricate, beautiful thing.”  
  
“You’re not like most people then,” Dean snickers. “Most don’t care enough to look closely. They just see white blobs of annoyance.”  
  
Castiel backs up to look at Dean, furrowing his brow. How could anyone not appreciate this? “That’s unfortunate. They’re missing out.” Dean smiles, shaking his head and pulls Castiel in for a kiss.  
  
“You’re such a dork,” he murmurs against his lips. Castiel smiles, his heart fluttering at the endearing way Dean says the word. For a moment, he forgets that they haven’t only known each other for a week. He forgets that they aren’t dating, that there are no deeper connections than the complicated thing they came up with.  
  
He forgets all of this and instead, he memorizes the tender way Dean’s mouth moves perfectly with his, the way shivers are sent down his spine when Dean brushes his cold fingertips against Castiel’s cheek, the way his tongue feels soft and gentle as it explores his mouth.  
  
Dean breaks away with a smirk. “Let’s go inside, shall we?”  
  
Castiel hesitates for a moment, a question that’s been on his mind all evening begging to be asked. “Dean?”  
  
Dean stops, looking back at Castiel questioningly. “Yeah Cas?”  
  
“Did you and Benny ever…?” Castiel looks down, embarrassed that this bothers him so much.  
  
“What?” Dean’s voice is disbelieving.  
  
“You know,” Castiel prompts, vaguely gesturing with his hands.  
  
Dean busts out laughing. “Cas, are you jealous?”  
  
Castiel feels his face burn under the blush that reaches up to his ears because he’s not supposed to be jealous. “No! Just wondering,” he sputters.  
  
But Dean is still laughing and it takes a few moments until he’s calm enough to answer clearly. “No, we never did anything. He’s just a friend.”  
  
Castiel nods, feeling relieved. “C’mon, jealousy,” Dean quips, pulling Castiel inside.  
  
They barely make it into the door before Castiel’s hands are back on Dean. Dean takes no convincing as his hands softly caress at Castiel’s arms and in that instant, lips meet once again. Somehow, through the brushing of lips trailing against skin and the gentle caresses that leave goosebumps in their wake, they find their way to the bedroom.  
  
Unlike last time, there isn’t any pinning against the wall or hungry nipping of the neck. They take their time, carefully removing the other’s clothes and planting soft kisses on the skin that’s been exposed. Small moans escape their mouths, full of longing and desire, but tame all the same.  
  
Castiel closes his eyes, throwing his head back in ecstasy when he feels Dean’s lips take him in. He goes slow, trailing his tongue all the way up his shaft before his lips enclose him and gives him a deep suck and it takes Castiel's breath away. Dean continues this with Castiel combing his fingers through Dean’s snowflake dotted hair, heart fluttering and breath catching in his throat every time Dean captures him in his mouth again. Castiel bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut as Dean almost drives him over the edge, but is surprised when Dean’s soft lips are back on his.  
  
Dean turns Castiel around with softest touch and starts to open him up, leaving delicate kisses along his shoulders and neck as Castiel moans his name. And when Dean enters him, it almost makes him cry because Dean is so careful about it, as if Castiel was one of those ceramic angels that Dean wanted to get him so badly the other day.  
  
Normally, Castiel would be impatient with Dean’s pace, wanting him to fuck him senseless. But that raging fire of pure lust doesn’t burn inside him now. Instead, a soft flame flickers within him, savoring every thrust and stroke and the way Dean whispers his name hoarsely. He doesn’t want this to end any sooner than it has to, because if he could, he’d freeze this moment right here and live in it forever. Because he’s with Dean and they are both happy.  
  
Castiel’s breaths are coming in quick short pants as Dean speeds up his pace, hitting Castiel in just the right spot that makes his body quiver and melt against Dean’s. Castiel is murmuring Dean’s name with every pant and Dean is panting too, whispering words like angel and Cas and beautiful, although Castiel is too lost to make any sense of them.  
  
Castiel cries out when he comes, clutching Dean’s hand tightly and Dean follows soon after. Then they collapse onto the bed in a panting mess, tangled up in each other. Dean only moves to release himself from the condom and tosses it in a small trash bin next to Sam’s nightstand before flopping back down next to Castiel.  
  
“Thank you for a great Christmas, Dean,” Castiel murmurs, turning his head to look into Dean's eyes.  
  
“Of course, angel,” Dean says back, green eyes sparkling in a way Castiel hasn’t seen before. “Merry Christmas, Cas,” Dean tells him.  
  
“Merry Christmas, Dean.”  
  


  


* * *

Dean slowly wakes up, blinking tiredly against the harsh bright light that’s streaming through the blinds, but it’s not regular sunlight. That can only mean one thing. There’s snow everywhere outside. He turns to see Cas still sleeping soundly beside him. For once the bed isn't empty. He can’t help but smile at how beautiful he looks. So peaceful, so innocent. He really does look like angel, minus the halo and fluffy wings.  
  
Dean withholds a chuckle at how un-angel like he can be in bed. Demanding son of a bitch. But he wasn’t this last time. In fact, they both weren’t. It was gentle and tender and… loving? Dean rolls his eyes at the absurd thought. Of course not.  
  
He leans over and gently kisses Cas’ nose. “Good morning, angel,” he murmurs in a gruff voice. Morning voice, how sexy.  
  
Castiel stirs and opens his eyes to stare at him. It nearly stops Dean’s heart. He’ll never get used to how blue those eyes are. “Good morning, Dean,” Cas says, giving Dean a sleepy smile.  
  
“I think you’ll like what you see outside,” Dean tells him and he can’t help but brush his fingers through Cas’ disheveled sex and bed hair.  
  
“What’s outside?” Cas asks, eyebrows knitting together. It only takes three seconds for him to remember though and he rolls out of bed, still completely naked, and rushes to the window, pulling the blinds open. Dean chuckles as a gasp escapes Cas’ mouth.  
  
Outside is coated in a blanket of white, sparkling snow, making everything look like the stereotypical winter wonderland. “Dean! Look at all this snow!”  
  
“You’d think you just won the lottery or somethin’,” Dean snickers, sitting up in the bed. But Cas ignores the jab and Dean can see his face in the reflection of the window, smiling like a gleeful child on Christmas morning. “Cas, you might wanna throw some clothes on if you’re gonna stand in front of the window for all the world to see,” Dean smirks. Anyone who passes by right now will be able to see all of Cas, and Dean wants to keep it a private showing.  
  
Cas looks down, seeming to remember he was naked and scrambles to throw on some clothes from the floor.  
  
“Do you wanna build a snowman?” Dean sings the song from _Frozen_ , knowing Cas would appreciate it now. Castiel whips around with an even bigger smile.  
  
“Can we, Dean?”  
  
Dean laughs, climbing out of bed and kisses Castiel. “Sure, why not?”  
  
Castiel practically inhales the omelet Dean makes and dresses for the coldness waiting outside, complaining when Dean doesn’t move fast enough to get ready.  
  
“Relax Cas, it’s not going to melt right away.”  
  
“It will at the pace you’re going,” Castiel retorts.  
  
Dean rolls his eyes, muttering, “Impatient bastard.”  
  
To which, Castiel responds, “I heard that.”  
  
To Castiel’s delight, they finally make it outside. But first things first, Dean has to clear the snow off Baby. “I can’t let my Baby be buried under snow, Cas. It’s cruel,” Dean tells him when he sees Cas huff out a white puff of breath impatiently. As an afterthought though, Castiel rushes back inside to grab his camera to snap some pictures while Dean tends to the Impala.  
  
Dean leans against the Impala when he’s done cleaning her off and watches Cas wander around, eyes taking in every little detail before he finds his target and captures it with a click. It’s fascinating watching Cas when he goes into photographer mode. He looks like someone who escaped an insane asylum, getting in weird positions and stretching in abstract ways just to capture the perfect shot. And Dean could go on about the flurry of faces Castiel has when reviewing his pictures. He gets completely lost in the process of it all, as if he’s in his own world of wonders.  
  
When Castiel’s satisfied with his pictures, they get to building their snowman. Dean lets Cas do most of the work since he’s built plenty of snowmen with Sam when they were younger. He wanted Cas to have as much of this experience as he could. While Cas is busy smoothing out the surface of the snowman, Dean decides to hunt for some rocks and sticks for the body parts.  
  
When he’s found the sufficient supplies, he hands them to Cas, who arranges everything to his liking. They step back to admire Castiel’s work and Dean claps him on the back. “You’re an expert.”  
  
Castiel shoves Dean playfully. “Don’t tease.”  
  
Dena laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. “Who says I’m teasing?” Then Dean gets an idea that he’s shocked he didn’t think of before. “Hey Cas, what does an angel in the winter look like?”  
  
Castiel rolls his eyes but plays along. “I don’t know, what?”  
  
“ _Snow_ angel I’ve ever seen before.” Dean can’t help the wide grin that stretches over his face, eagerly watching for Cas’ response.  
  
Castiel shakes his head, lifting his gloved hand to wipe down his face. “Do you come up with these yourself?”  
  
“Guilty. But really, I’ll show you how to make a snow angel,” Dean winks at him. Castiel looks doubtful and Dean laughs. “No, I’m not going to cover you in snow. C’mere.”  
  
Castiel walks over and watches as Dean settles himself in the fluffy snow and then starts moving his arms and legs around. When he gets up, Castiel looks intrigued at the shape Dean’s left in the snow. “Now you make one,” Dean prompts and Castiel lays down next to Dean’s angel and makes one of his own.  
  
When Castiel stands up, they look at their two angels side by side near their zombie Christmas tree. “Now our tree can be guarded from any walkers,” Castiel says with an amused smile. Dean laughs, glancing over at Cas and his laugh softens.  
  
The way his blue eyes light up as he takes in the snowy scene and the snow that’s nestled itself in Cas’ dark, tousled hair, it makes Dean want to run and get Castiel’s camera to capture the moment. Instead, he reaches out and runs his fingers through Castiel’s damp hair, brushing the snow from it.  
  
He wants to kiss him silly right now but stops himself, seeing Castiel shiver violently for a moment and he decides it’s time to go back inside. “Alright, I think you’ve had enough snow for today. C’mon,” he says, taking Cas’ gloved hand in his and pulls him inside to warm up despite his protests.  
  
“Now, what do ya say to some Walking Dead and soup?” Dean asks as they lay their gloves and soaked socks over a vent to dry.  
  
“That sounds perfect,” Castiel smiles, face completely red from the snow.  
  
“Go take a shower and warm up, I’ll start on the soup,” Dean instructs him before making his way into the kitchen. Dean chooses to make them tomato rice soup, something his mom always made for him when he was sick, but it was just as good on cold winter days after playing in the snow. He prepares everything and then settles himself on the couch while it cooks.  
  
He leans his head back and closes his eyes, listening to the muffled sound of the shower. Calm. He feels calm.  
  
He jumps when his phone starts ringing loudly in his pocket and he quickly digs it out, praying that it’s not his Dad. He glances at the caller ID, smiling when he sees Sammy’s name instead.  
  
“Sammy!” he greets loudly.  
  
“Hey Dean,” Sam says and Dean can hear the smile in his voice.  
  
Then Dean remembers the abrupt end to their Skype call yesterday and frowns. “Hey Sam, sorry about Dad yesterday.”  
  
Sam snorts. “Dean, don’t apologize for him. It doesn’t matter. How was everything else?”  
  
Dean hesitates before answering this. Yesterday was a rollercoaster of emotions. There was his father, but then there was all of his friends that were basically family. And then there was Cas, who blew his mind on multiple occasions. “It was great. Wish you were there,” he ends up saying, because it really was. He's grateful for his family. “What about you? Didja go to a strip club?” Dean teases.  
  
“Ugh, no Dean,” and Dean knows he’s giving the biggest eye roll of all time. “I actually met someone and she was nice enough to invite me over.”  
  
“Whoa there, Sammy boy. Scoring on Christmas, nice!” Dean chuckles and Sam groans.  
  
“You’re gross, you know that right?”  
  
“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” Dean teases.  
  
“Yeah, whatever. I know that’s all an act, Dean,” Sam tells him.  
  
“For what?”  
  
“I know you really like Castiel. And don’t you dare deny it because you’d be lying. I haven’t heard you talk about someone like this ever.”  
  
Dean’s smile falls and his guard goes up. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he knows Sam’s right. He really does like Castiel, way more than he should. But he can’t ever admit that because admitting his feelings for Cas would be like shooting himself in the foot. It’s pointless when he knows it’s all ending in a couple days. Long distance relationships don’t ever work out and Cas hasn’t even mentioned trying to go that route. So the best thing for Dean to do is just enjoy his angel while he can and deal with the repercussions of him leaving after the fact.  
  
“Don’t I? Dean, I hear it in your voice. Why can’t you ever let yourself be happy?” Sam challenges. Dean doesn’t want to talk about this. He doesn’t even want to hear it. No one will understand.  
  
“It’s none of your business, Sam. Wanna know the truth? It’s all a set up! None of it’s real! We’re just fuck buddies until he leaves and then that’ll be it. Done. So would you drop it?” Dean’s shouting at this point and his heart aches with the words that leave his mouth and tears threaten to spill down his face. It hurts so damn much that this is his reality, that for once, he will be the one heartbroken at the end of it all. And wishes everyone would just leave him alone about it because he’s tired of the reminders of what he wants so desperately to be real but will never be. Because there’s no way in hell someone like Castiel Novak is able to love someone like Dean Winchester.  
  
The sound of a clearing throat makes Dean turn around to see Cas’ blue eyes staring at him from the entrance of the living room, hair dripping wet with rosy cheeks. Shit.  
  


  


* * *

Heart pounding. That’s all Castiel can hear right now as he stares at Dean. It’s deafening. It feels as if time’s stopped, the world frozen in place and now he’s paralyzed, unable to move or say anything. He takes in Dean’s wide green eyes, panicked from being caught. People always say the truth hurts, but this feels like Castiel was hit by a train.  
  
And then time resumes. A million little details falling into place as the true impact what he just heard hits him even harder. And he commands himself to act.  
  
“C-Cas,” Dean stammers, scrambling to his feet but he’s is already disappearing down the hallway. “Sam, I gotta call you back,” and he hears the phone slam against something, followed by progressing footsteps. Castiel yanks the suitcase from underneath the bed and throws it open before turning to the closet and ripping clothes off the hangers. His chest is tight. His head is spinning. He can’t breathe.  
  
“Cas, it’s not what you think-“ Dean starts when he bursts into the room but Castiel cuts him off.  
  
“It’s fine, Dean, really. Save it,” his voice is shaking and he’s surprised he can even talk at all as he glares at Dean.  
  
“I didn’t mean that, it just came out all wrong,” Dean tries again, rubbing his hand over his face and Castiel pushes past him to shove more clothes into the suitcase.  
  
“No, I think you covered it just fine,” Castiel growls, stuffing the clothes together to make room. Dean tosses his hands up.  
  
“So what, you’re just leaving now?”  
  
Castiel collects some articles of clothing off the floor and tosses them in with the rest. “Yes. I’ve over stayed my visit and I need to get back home. No sense in wasting any more of your time.”  
  
“Cas, you’re not wasting my time! Would you stop for a moment and talk to me?” Dean starts to grab for Castiel’s arm but stops himself.  
  
“There’s nothing to talk about, Dean. You’re right. We were just fuck buddies, no strings attached, no hard feelings. We said that from day one,” Castiel looks at Dean’s face, which is twisted into all sorts of emotions, Castiel can’t even begin to place each one. But he doesn’t care. He shouldn’t care.  
  
“If that was true, why are you so upset right now?” Dean asks hoarsely, anger starting to replace the desperation his voice had.  
  
Castiel stomps past Dean and to the bathroom to collect his toiletries. “I don’t know, Dean. I kind of thought that over the time I was here, we might’ve been friends who actually gave a damn about each other. I thought I was more than just someone to fuck,” Castiel yells over his shoulder. He nearly collides with Dean who trailed him into the bathroom and pushes past him.  
  
“You are, Cas!” Dean shouts and this makes Castiel laugh dryly.  
  
“Right, but you tell your brother, the person you are the closest to, otherwise. Yeah, your story really matches up there, Dean.” Castiel retorts and his throat tightens as Dean’s voice echoes in his mind. _Fuck buddies. Done._  
  
Castiel’s head starts to spin with the blinding emotions he feels. Hurt. Betrayal. _Heartbroken_. This is exactly why he should’ve just told Dean goodbye that first night. This is what he wanted to avoid.  
  
“Cas, _please_. Can we just stop for a moment?” Dean sighs tiredly.  
  
“No,” Castiel answers firmly. And he starts to explain himself but decides against it. He doesn’t owe Dean anything, not even an explanation. This is entirely Castiel’s fault anyway. Instead of acknowledging that he was feeling something more for Dean and ending it, he suppressed it for his own selfish wants. And now he’s paying the price. So he focuses on shoving the last few things in his bag.  
  
Dean laughs bitterly. “You know, you’re something else. You’re so fucking stubborn. Should I remind you that it was _you_ that said it’d be fun to do this whole no strings attached thing? And then you insisted on forcing your way into my personal problems. So you know what? Screw you, Cas.”  
  
Castiel does one more sweep of the room to make sure he’s got everything and then closes up his suitcase, which detracts from his anger because he struggles to get it closed and it frustrates him even more. “You know what, Dean? Screw you too. I was just trying to help you. But I guess I have myself to blame for all this because you warned me that you hurt people. What a fucking idiot I was for ignoring that,” Castiel says in a low voice, hulling his suitcase off the bed and marching it down the hallway. He pulls out his phone and dials the number for a cab.  
  
Dean starts to yell but Castiel interrupts him, speaking into the phone, “Hi, yes. I need a cab,” and he proceeds to tell them Sam’s address. Ten minutes. Great. He shoves his phone into his pocket and pulls on his coat. Dean tries again to speak but Castiel silences him with a glare. “Just stop, Dean. This was nothing but a mistake. So please… just stop.”  
  
And they stand in silence avoiding eye contact, the tension so thick Castiel could choke. He wishes Dean would just leave already. Why isn’t he leaving? The pity of it all makes Castiel even angrier. He doesn’t want Dean’s pity. Still, after all the words that were exchanged, Dean’s going to patronize him by staying. Rubbing salt in the wound. Thankfully, the cab shows up quicker than anticipated and Castiel grabs his suitcase and swings open the door.  
  
“Dammit Cas, we can fix this!” Dean blurts out behind him.  
  
Castiel looks over his shoulder at Dean and gives him a sad, bitter smile. “Dean, it’s not broken.”  
  
And he shuts the door behind him, pausing to let out a shaky breath, eyes filling with tears. He quickly rubs at them, not wanting to look like an emotional wreck to the driver and straightens himself up, hauling his luggage to the cab. As the driver, which is thankfully not Benny, pulls away, Castiel casts one last look at the house. No Dean in sight. He tears his eyes away, finally leaving Dean behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst is real, sorry!  
> Buut I hope you still enjoyed! <3 Again, thank you for reading and to those who leave kudos, it warms my heart ^.^  
> [My tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

Dean stares at the door. It’s closed, just like it has been for the last fifteen minutes he’s been staring at it. He hasn’t moved from where he was standing since Cas disappeared fifteen minutes ago. And he doesn’t want to move, because what if Cas changes his mind and comes rushing back through that door? What if he comes back and sees Dean is not there waiting for him? He would most certainly turn back around and leave again. Dean wants to prove that this meant more to him than just screwing around, that he’s developed feelings for this angel.  
  
His phone starts ringing from the table where he tossed it after Cas overheard him talking to Sam. His eyes flicker to it but doesn’t move to get it. He doesn’t want to move because somehow in his mind, if he moves, time resumes and the possibility of Cas returning vanishes.  
  
His eyes look back to the door and he sighs, resigning his pointless hopes and walks over to the coffee table, glancing at who it is. Sam.  
  
He picks it up but the words get caught in his throat and nothing comes out. “Dean?” Sam prompts cautiously.  
  
And then Dean breaks down. It happens as he says “Hey Sammy,” the words coming out in a choked cry, the lump in his throat so big he has to gasp for air.  
  
“Dean! What happened? Are you okay?” Sam’s voice is alarmed. Dean can’t talk though. He has to pull the phone away from his face so Sam doesn’t hear him as another pathetic whimper escapes him. Tears are rolling down his face and he can’t stop them. He can hear Sam calling his name, sounding more and more panicked each time.  
  
He shakily raises a hand to wipe his face before bringing the phone back to his ear. “Sorry about that Sammy,” he says, clearing his voice to erase any traces of crying from it.  
  
“Dude, talk to me. What the hell is going on?”  
  
Dean swallows down another sob and speaks as clearly as he can. “Cas left.” Despite his best efforts though, his voice catches at saying the name.  
  
“What? Why?”  
  
“Because I screwed up, Sam. He overheard me talking to you and… it all went downhill.” He presses his fingers against his stinging eyes as if doing this will erase his memory of what happened.  
  
“Did you try talking to him? Maybe you can still catch-“  
  
Dean cuts him off. “Stop Sam. I know what you’re going to say, and I’m not going after him.”  
  
“Why not? If he hears the truth, you guys can talk about it and realize it’s all one big misunderstanding,” Sam presses impatiently.  
  
“No. It’s useless. He doesn’t feel the same way so what’s the point? Nothing was ever going to come of it anyway,” Dean sighs.  
  
Sam snorts. “That’s bullshit, Dean, and you know it. Why would he just leave right away if he didn’t care about you?”  
  
“Okay, well maybe he did care but not like that. He said he considered me a friend. A _friend_.”  
  
Sam sighs, seemingly defeated. “I don’t see why you can’t just call the guy.”  
  
This aggravates Dean, because Sam doesn’t understand. It’s not just simple math that can be solved with one equation. He’s completely missing the point. “Because I can’t keep doing this, Sam! I can’t keep pining after a guy who doesn’t feel the same way. It’s pathetic! So please, just leave it alone.”  
  
Sam’s quiet for a long time before he speaks again. “Okay Dean. Look, I’ll cut this thing short and come home tomorrow.”  
  
Dean shakes his head. “Don’t do that. Not just for me.”  
  
“I want to. You’re my brother and I can’t just let you sit there heartbroken.” Dean sighs but agrees. With nothing more to say, the call ends.  
  
He looks around the house that suddenly seems so empty, emptier than it ever has been. He almost expects to wake up, having fallen asleep on the couch, and see Cas curled up next to him watching The Walking Dead with those entranced blue eyes that are busy taking in every little goddamn detail. He doesn’t though.  
  
Instead, he smells the reminder of his tomato rice soup that’s now burning on the stove. He walks to the kitchen and switches the heat off, tossing the stuff into the garbage and throwing the pot in the sink. And suddenly the emptiness and the deafening silence is too much for him. He needs to get out of here, and fast before he goes crazy.  
  
He rushes through the house, only pausing when he sees something out of the corner of his eye. He looks down at the floor to see a lonely, dark blue scarf laid out over the vent to dry from the snow. The tears threaten to make a reappearance but he swallows them down this time, crouching down to pick it up.  
  
He brushes his fingers along the soft knit and buries his face in it. He sucks in a breath, feeling like he was punched in the gut but then pauses. He inhales again and he’s right. It smells very faintly of Cas. He folds it up gingerly and sets it on the coffee table. He’ll mail it to Cas because there’s no way he’ll be able to keep it now. Even if Cas doesn’t want it, he doesn’t care. He just can’t bear to look at it.  
  
He heads to The Roadhouse, deciding a drink or two is in order. Or maybe enough that helps him forget this whole thing ever happened. When he walks in, Jo is the one manning the bar today and she’s already on guard, eyeing Dean cautiously.  
  
“Dean? What the hell happened to you?”  
  
He plops himself on a stool. “You know what I want.”  
  
She hesitates before pouring him a glass of whiskey, letting him polish off the glass in one go and refilling it when he asks for another, before she questions him again. “What happened?”  
  
“Cas is gone, and no, I don’t want to talk about it,” he grunts, swirling the dark liquid around in the cup.  
  
Jo gasps. “No way! When did this happen?”  
  
“About an hour ago,” he murmurs, keeping his eyes down.  
  
Jo shakes her head, eyebrows raised in surprise. “But I don’t understand. What happened?”  
  
Dean smirks, not really wanting to retell the whole thing. “Let’s just say he had enough of our little arrangement.”  
  
“What arrangement?”  
  
Dean snorts. “Like you didn’t know.”  
  
Jo crosses her arms. “I thought you guys were together or something. Or at least in the flirting-but-not-actually-together-yet stage.”  
  
Dean laughs bitterly. “Nope. Just friends with some good benefits.”  
  
“Dean, there’s no way that’s possible. That guy really liked you,” Jo protests.  
  
“Look, I said I didn’t want to talk about it. And just for the record, he’s the one who didn’t want anything more, not me. So can we just let me drink in peace now?”  
  
“Dean, the drinking needs to stop. There are better coping methods than drowning yourself,” Jo growls, not looking the least bit happy with him.  
  
Dean gives her an icy stare. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were a therapist too.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm. Jo just rolls her eyes in response. “I appreciate the concern, Jo, but if I wanted help, I’d ask for it,” he says, taking another swig.  
  
Jo nods reluctantly, looking upset and then Dean sees her looking around and he knows exactly what she’s thinking. “And don’t you dare tell Ellen about this or so help me Jo,” he warns. She huffs in frustration and walks away. Dean feels a little guilty because he knows these people are only trying to help him, but pointing out everything he can’t change doesn’t help anyone. It only makes him feel even more like shit.  
  
He needs to face this on his own, because he’ll have to face his Dad soon enough and he can’t do that if he’s still pining after Cas. He’s surprised John hasn’t called yet, but he will soon enough. And with Sam coming home earlier than expected, Dean needs to be prepared to manage those two again before World War III breaks out in their house. He needs to be strong for Sammy. 

  


* * *

**New Year’s Eve**  
  
“Come on, Castiel! Or else we’re gonna miss our flight!” Jess calls to him. But he doesn’t want to leave.  
  
“Remind me why we’re jetting off to New York again?” Castiel groans as he lifts his small overnight bag over his shoulder and walks out of his bedroom.  
  
Jess rolls eyes at him and tugs him out the door and to the car. “Because who doesn’t want to be in New York for New Year’s? We both could use some adventure and you need to have fun.”  
  
Castiel looks out the window from the passenger seat as Jess pulls away and starts driving. He frowns at her words. “Last time you wanted me to have adventure and fun, look what that got me.”  
  
“Oh, don’t be a baby. This I know you’ll enjoy.”  
  
“What’s insanity again? Making the same mistake and expecting different results?” Castiel mutters under his breath.  
  
“Just try to relax, will ya?” she sighs and Castiel doesn’t say anything more. “Listen, Cassie, I know you said you didn’t wanna talk about it. But it might help-”  
  
“Jess, I said no.”  
  
Jess huffs, “You do realize he had feelings for you, right?”  
  
Castiel shakes his head. He shouldn’t have told her about any of this, because she hasn’t left him alone since he showed up unexpectedly that day he left Lawrence. It doesn’t help that he finally broke down the moment he stepped foot in their house. He’d been holding it in the entire flight and couldn’t take it any longer. He let her hug him until he ran out of tears. But then that was it. He didn’t want to discuss it anymore. Now she insists on watching him as if he was going to shatter again at any moment or worse, trying to get him to talk about it. “No, he didn’t. He’s just a great actor. It’s what he does. And I should’ve known better.”  
  
“That’s not fair, Castiel. You didn’t even give him a chance to explain.”  
  
“He didn’t have to. I understand perfectly fine. Besides, it’s better this way. I told him I wouldn’t fall in love with him and I didn’t, so what’s the point in talking about it? And even if I did, it would’ve never worked out. It’s meaningless now just as it was then.”  
  
Jess sets her hand over his and he looks over to see her smiling sadly at him. “Oh Cassie, you know that’s not true. You did love him.” Castiel moves his hand away from hers and goes back to looking out the window.  
  
“Can we just not talk about it? Please?”  
  
She sighs. “Fine.” They ride the rest of the way in silence and when they get to the airport, Jess doesn’t bother him anymore. She handles the tickets for him, only giving it to him when they go through security and then she takes it back to hold onto safely, as if she’s worried Castiel might rip it up and run.  
  
Although, if he were to do that, he’d have to think fast because they arrive too late to the airport, needing to rush through the terminal to board the plane as a voice announces their flight number over the intercom for final boarding.  
  
By the time they actually make it on the plane, Jess and Castiel are panting from the run. Jess is saying how lucky they are and Castiel nods before he shoves his earbuds in and turns on his iPod, letting the music work its magic. He will not have Jess talk his ear off the entire flight, especially when she might bring up Dean again.  
  
At some point he must’ve fallen asleep because he’s waking up to Jess nudging him and repeating his name. He opens his eyes to see darkness. What? He pulls out an earbud and moves to feel what’s on his face. Jess’ hand flies up to stop him. “No Castiel, leave it on.”  
  
“What’s going on, Jess?” he grunts, taking out his other earbud and wrapping them around the iPod.  
  
“I have a surprise for you, but you have to stay blindfolded or else it’ll ruin everything,” she explains, helping him to his feet.  
  
“Isn’t this going a little far?” he whines shuffling his feet along the floor, worried he might trip.  
  
“Maybe, but when don’t I ever go all out?” she giggles and Castiel has to admit she’s got a point. Although he has no idea what could be waiting for him in New York that he has to wear a blindfold the moment of touch down. It’s a good thing they only have their carry-ons or else baggage claim would be a nightmare blindfolded.  
  
Jess leads him slowly through the airport and out into the cold. He can’t imagine the strange looks he must be getting.  
  
Castiel doesn’t ask, but he hopes it’s snowing. He wouldn’t mind seeing some snow again. If it’s one thing he misses from Lawrence, it’s those tiny, beautifully unique ice crystals.  
  
After what feels like a long wait, Jess is finally shoving him into a cab and when the driver asks for an address, Castiel hears Jess hand him a piece of paper. “Go there and please no voiceover from the GPS. I’m surprising my friend here and he can’t know where we’re headed,” she tells him. Castiel can’t help but smile. She could be such a pain in the ass sometimes, but she’s his pain in the ass.  
  
The cab ride seems to go on forever, but maybe that’s thanks to the lack of vision he has, unable to see where in the world they were headed. Finally, the car comes to a stop and driver announces the arrival to their destination.  
  
“Thank you, keep the change,” Jess tells the guy in a chipper voice and helps Castiel out of the cab.  
  
“Can I take the blindfold off now?”  
  
“Not yet!” She slaps his hand when he tries to push the thing off his face and beings leading him along a path. Wherever they are, it’s quiet. Castiel wonders if maybe Jess has family in New York and they are in the outskirts of the city, but why all the need for secrecy then? Maybe they would be heading to the city soon enough. Although they left rather late in the afternoon, it’s gotta be close to midnight at this point.  
  
“Jess,” Castiel groans.  
  
“Watch your step,” she says right as Castiel’s feet knock into something. Stairs. He slowly climbs them and he hears Jess start knocking on a door. “Okay, now you can look.”  
  
Castiel pushes the blindfold off his face and blinks, getting used to the light even though it’s dark outside. He looks around and his eyes fall on a snowman and a zombie Christmas tree. He flashes his eyes to Jess who’s watching him curiously.  
  
“Jess, what did you do?” Castiel hisses before the door opens up. But it’s not Dean.  
  
“Jess!” Sam smiles brightly and she throws herself into his arms. Castiel stands back, watching dumbfounded.  
  
“Wait, what’s going on?” Castiel asks slowly.  
  
“Castiel, this is the guy I met while you were gone. I met Sam.” She smiles up at Sam who towers over her. Wow, he’s taller than Castiel expected.  
  
“No way… how?” Castiel says, still unable to believe this.  
  
Sam chuckles and invites them both in. “We’ll exchange stories later.”  
  
“Sammy, who is it?” A familiar voice sounds from the kitchen and Castiel’s heart drops into his stomach. The source of the voice walks though the doorway to the living room, freezing as green eyes settle on Castiel. He bites his lip nervously, looking away from Dean.  
  
“Cas?” Dean chokes out quietly.  
  
“Hello Dean,” Castiel nods awkwardly to him, still avoiding his gaze.  
  
“What’re you doing here?”  
  
Castiel shrugs with a pointed look at Jess. “Honestly, I didn’t realize I was here to begin with.”  
  
Then a deafening silence settles over everyone. No one’s sure what to say next but a ding goes off in the kitchen and this is what moves every one back into motion.  
  
“The pie must be ready,” Dean murmurs, turning to disappear back into the kitchen.  
  
“Right! Do you guys want some?” Sam asks looking to Jess and him. Castiel starts to object before Jess cuts him off.  
  
“Of course! Ever since you brought up Dean’s cooking, I’ve been dying to try it!” she says, giving a look to Castiel. Sam smiles to them and awkwardly follows Dean into the kitchen.  
  
Castiel pulls Jess closer to him to hiss, “Jess. What the hell is this?”  
  
She yanks her arm free, giving him a stern look. “I wanted to see Sam for New Year’s and I didn’t want to go alone. I knew if I asked you, you would’ve said no.”  
  
He groans. “Do you not remember how I left? This is going to be incredibly awkward. Dean probably doesn’t want me anywhere near here.”  
  
She rolls her eyes. “That’s another thing. You guys should talk things out. All you do is assume what the other is feeling but you never _talk_. At least get some closure.”  
  
“I don’t want to-“  
  
“Yeah yeah, no talking, blah blah blah. Look Castiel, I just want you to be happy. If you’re truly miserable after pie, we’ll go get a hotel room for the night,” she sighs. Castiel frowns, hating that he’s bringing down her New Year’s but what was she thinking? Maybe he’ll just go get a room by himself.  
  
“Okay,” he tells her, glancing into the kitchen to see Dean and Sam huddled close together, no doubt Dean is telling Sam the same thing he told Jess. Sam shakes his head, leaving Dean and arrives with two plates of steaming pie for him and Jess.  
  
“Here guys,” he says, handing them each a plate before getting his own.  
  
Sam and Jess settle on the couch with Dean sitting in the kitchen at the counter, but still facing out into the living room. Castiel could join him, but thinks it’s less awkward to sit on the couch with Sam and Jess instead.  
  
They eat quietly before Castiel breaks the silence. “So, uh, how did you two meet?”  
  
Sam and Jess exchange a smile before Jess starts talking. “Well, I was supposed to be with my family while you were gone. I was on my way when I realized I forgot their presents at home, so I had to turn around.”  
  
“And I happened to be there,” Sam says now with a shy grin.  
  
Jess nods. “The poor guy looked so distraught and was trying to cook mac and cheese but failing miserably,” she laughs and Sam ducks his head in embarrassment.  
  
“Aw, c’mon Sammy. I thought I taught you at least how to make basic mac and cheese,” Dean chuckles. Castiel glances over at him, and although he keeps it hidden, he wants to smile at the sight of Dean laughing. It’s not his usual laugh, sounding a little more strained than normal, but Castiel didn’t realize how much he missed that laugh.  
  
“Last time you told me never to touch food again,” Sam retorts.  
  
Dean shrugs. “I was trying to motivate you.” Castiel smirks at this, making sure to keep his eyes lowered as he’s imagining Dean and Sam in a kitchen. He feels lucky that Dean was so helpful to him when they were making those deserts.  
  
“ _Anyway_ , she helped me out and I invited to stay and eat with me. Then we just kinda hung out. When it came time for Christmas, she felt bad I was alone- even though I told her I was fine- and brought me to her family’s house,” Sam explains.  
  
“There was no way I was letting you be alone on Christmas,” Jess says, tapping his nose. Sam leans down and gives her a loving kiss and it makes Castiel smile. Jess is finally happy. He’s been so selfish. He should be at least humoring her with talking to Dean because Heaven knows she’s been bending backwards to make him happy.  
  
They finish their pie, which was delicious and Castiel has to stop himself from licking the remnants off the plate, they sit in silence. He stares down at his hands, mind racing with that to do or say. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jess lean over and whisper something to Sam who nods.  
  
“We’ll give you two some privacy,” Sam says suddenly, launching himself off the couch, grabbing his coat and taking Jess’ hand as they leave, the door clicking shut behind them.  
  
Castiel stares after them in surprise at the sudden exit, although it doesn’t surprise him that Jess recommended this plan of action. He and Dean sit in silence for what seems like ten minutes. Castiel isn’t sure what to say. What there is _to_ say. He left in the worse way possible and not enough time has passed for him to get over the series of events that’s unfolded for him here in Lawrence.  
  
“Since you’re here, I guess I can give you this,” Dean breaks the silence first, walking around to the living room and to the coffee table where a little cardboard box sat. “You left it here. I was gonna mail it to you,” Dean murmurs, holding out the box for Castiel to take.  
  
Castiel’s eyes shift uncertainly at the box but takes it, flipping open the top as it hasn’t been sealed yet. He pulls out a dark blue knitted scarf. The one with two little letters sewn into the corner. The one that belonged to Dean.  
  
“Dean,” Castiel sighs, carefully laying it back into the box. “I can’t take this. Not after… not after everything that’s happened.” Castiel casts one last look at the precious gift before standing up and holding it back out to Dean. “Besides, it’s yours. It never belonged to me.”  
  
Dean hangs his head, shaking it as he walks away and Castiel can see some sort of smile playing on his lips. “I can’t. I can’t keep it. I gave it to you, Cas. Just take it and give it away when you leave if you really don’t want it.”  
  
Castiel frowns. He wants it so bad. This gift touched his heart more than anything else he’s ever gotten. But it all means nothing. Why is Dean doing this? Is he playing some sick mind game where he forces Castiel to take home the one physical reminder that Dean ever existed?  
  
“Why are you doing this?” Castiel whispers.  
  
Dean looks up at him and Castiel can see now that smile is a sad one. “Because I don’t know what else to do. And it seems anything I do makes things ten times worse and I- I just don’t know what to do anymore.”  
  
This doesn’t clarify anything for Castiel, but it sure does break his heart again. The pure self-hatred that’s written all over that beautiful, freckled face and seared into those troubled green eyes. It tears him up inside. And despite what they’ve been through, Castiel still feels the urge to help him, to make him feel better. Because he’s not sure he can live with himself if he leaves once again and lets the man continue to feel the way he does.  
  
“You don’t make things worse,” Castiel offers weakly and he already knows Dean will deny it.  
  
Which he does. “Yes I do. I let down my brother, I disappoint my dad, and I’ve hurt you. And no matter how hard I try I just… I hurt the people I care about.”  
  
Castiel feels his breath catch in his throat. Did he just say he cared about him? “And I know there’s nothing I can do to make things right with us. I’m so sorry, Cas. I didn’t want this to happen. Not to us. And I want you to leave knowing how truly sorry I am that you had to meet me,” Dean continues and Castiel furrows his brow. This isn’t making sense.  
  
“I’m not,” Castiel says and Dean gives him a questioningly look. “I’m not sorry, I mean. For meeting you.”  
  
“Why not? Do you not remember what happened?” Dean asks, sounding shocked.  
  
“I remember, but that doesn’t make me sorry for meeting you.” Castiel hesitates. He’s about to take a major leap, but he’s got nothing more to lose. “Meeting you was a breath of fresh air.” Castiel smiles embarrassingly at how ridiculous it sounds, but he continues.  
  
“I came here expecting the worse, telling myself over and over that nothing good could come out of this trip. Hell, I even made a vow to myself. But then I met you, and it was like fresh air. I tried suffocating myself from you and you don’t know how many times I lied to myself saying I didn’t like you.”  
  
He pauses, checking for any reactions from Dean but he stays silent, still processing Castiel’s words. “But I did like you, Dean. And every time I tried to deny myself, it only made me fall harder for you. I couldn’t tell you because I couldn’t handle the inevitable heartbreak. I knew it would ruin me,” Castiel sighs.  
  
Castiel starts when Dean laughs unexpectedly. “You thought _you_ were going to be the one heartbroken?”  
  
At first Castiel suspects it’s a rhetorical question, but Dean’s waiting for an answer. “Well, yes. You said these things always end badly for you and I knew that I would be like everyone else before me; heartbroken. And instead of leaving that next morning, I selfishly stayed because I thought I could control myself. Just to be able to see you again.”  
  
Dean frowns for a moment, seeming confused. “If you felt this way, why did you run off? Why didn’t you talk to me?”  
  
Castiel sighs. “Because I couldn’t hear rejection. I told you, I knew what was coming.”  
  
Dean is shaking his head now, smiling a smile that’s bordering on deranged. “Cas, are you joking right now? Because I knew from the moment I saw you that you’d be a heartbreaker. And that first night, when you said one good one and that’s it, we never see each other again, it confirmed what I originally thought. For the first time Cas, I thought I was the one that would be heartbroken.”  
  
Castiel stares at Dean in disbelief. “You thought _I_ was going to hurt you? You’re Dean Winchester!”  
  
“And you’re Castiel Novak!” he shoots back.  
  
Castiel shakes his head. Dean is delirious. That’s the only explanation for any of this. “But that phone call with Sam…” Castiel murmurs.  
  
Dean scoffs. “Geez, Cas. I wasn’t thinking. All I knew was that everyone was telling me I had feelings for you when I thought it was all meaningless on your end. Feelings aren’t exactly my forte, you know. It hurt and I just couldn’t handle it; being reminded that you were too good for me.”  
  
Castiel gives a small laugh of his own, probably sounding just as deranged as Dean. “There’s no way that’s possible.”  
  
Dean steps hesitantly towards Castiel and takes his hand, rubbing his thumb lightly of Cas’ knuckles. “Whether you choose to believe it or not, I need you, Cas. I need you so damn much it hurts.”  
  
A lump forms in Castiel’s throat and he feels like he might suffocate. Dean needs him. Not wants. _Needs_. And Castiel knows Dean isn’t a man of I love you’s. Hell, Dean can barely talk about his emotions without shutting down, let own declare love for someone. And after all the heartbreak he’s caused, he may not even believe in love.  
  
But those small, three words mean everything to Castiel. He wraps his arms around Dean, hugging him close. “I need you too, Dean.”  
  
“Always the stubborn one,” Dean chuckles quietly. Castiel knows Dean’s just poking fun but he can’t help the overwhelming guilt that settles over him. If he had just taken two minutes to let Dean talk, they probably would’ve spend the last five days happy and together instead of miserable and apart.  
  
“Dean, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have run out like that. I didn’t even give you-“  
  
Dean pulls Castiel away to look at him. “Don’t apologize.”  
  
Castiel shakes his head because no doubt he made Dean feel even more terrible about himself on top of everything he’s experiencing with his family and his goal this entire time has been to make Dean happy and worthy, to ease that low self-esteem he has. And he failed.  
  
“But I-“ he starts to protest when Dean interrupts him with a kiss. He even wants to protest the kiss because Dean deserves a proper apology, but he lets it go, deciding this is what Dean wants. If Dean’s truly forgiven him, then who is he to keep him from doing so? He moves his lips tenderly with Dean’s, his fingers trailing along his forearm.  
  
Dean pulls back after a moment, leaning his forehead against Castiel’s. “Thank you, Cas.”  
  
Castiel smirks, having no idea why Dean would be thanking him. “For what?”  
  
“For being you. You’re like my guardian angel,” Dean murmurs, thumb stroking his cheek.  
  
Castiel snickers. “Dean, I’m no angel. Far from one, actually.”  
  
“Well, you are to me.” Then Dean kisses him again and Castiel can finally recognize the love behind it.  
  
Sam and Jess return soon after and give smug smiles to them both at the sight of them together. Castiel shoots them a pointed glare while Dean rolls his eyes dramatically.  
  
“I think an ‘I told you so’ is in order,” Sam smiles, Jess seconding his motion.  
  
“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Dean snorts. Sam laughs as he flips on the TV and tunes the channel to the countdown.  
  
They all spend the rest of the evening drinking spiked eggnog, sharing stories and laughing. And when midnight finally hits, Castiel finds his lips intertwined with Dean’s and peace washes over him. This is what he wants. He may have been fighting himself to deny it, but Dean is what he wants. What he needs. And he knows it’s nowhere close to perfect, that these things don’t work out magically. They still have to work out what their relationship is and what is going to happen. But for now, Castiel doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to worry about the future. He’s going to focus on the present, because now he has Dean. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed! This is technically the "last" chapter, but I'll be writing a little epilogue too so it's not the end yet :)  
> Thank you for reading and leaving kudos! I know I said this before, but it really does make me smile <3  
> [My tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	9. Epilogue

**Christmas 2016**  
  
Dean focused down at his slicing of peaches, eye brows furrowed in thought. Too many thoughts. He's so lost in them all that he nearly slices his hand open when Charlie’s voice is suddenly in his ear.  
  
“Whoa, someone’s jumpy today,” she remarks.  
  
Dean sets the knife down before anything bad actually happens and turns to her. “Would it kill ya to not to sneak up on people?”  
  
She smirks and leans against the counter, stealing a slice of peach and munching on it. “I was most certainly not sneaking.” She reaches for another slice and Dean slaps her hand away.  
  
“Stop stealing my peaches or else there won’t be any left for the cobbler,” he scolds.  
  
“I think you need to relax. What’s going on?” Charlie raises an eyebrow at him.  
  
Dean sighs. So much. So much is going on in his head right now. “I just want today to go well, okay?”  
  
Charlie crosses her arms. “Dean, everything has been going fine. Why are you worrying?”  
  
“Because that’s what he does,” a deep, gravelly voice sounds from the entrance of the kitchen. Dean turns to take in the dark haired, blue eyed angel leaning against the doorway, arms crossed with snowflakes still fresh in his hair.  
  
“Maybe you can lighten him up, Cas,” Charlie says suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.  
  
Dean rolls his eyes and shoves Charlie playfully. “I think you both need to leave me to my cooking if you want peach cobbler for dessert.”  
  
Charlie shrugs with a smile, swiping her hand out to steal one more peach slice before sauntering past Castiel and out of the kitchen. “I’ll be back, Winchester,” she calls over her shoulder. Dean laughs, shaking his head. Charlie Bradbury is something else.  
  
Castiel pushes himself off the doorframe and crosses the kitchen to snake his arms around Dean’s waist, pulling him close. Too close. Dean can’t afford to be getting inappropriate thoughts right now, not while he and Cas are standing in Ellen’s kitchen.  
  
“You have snow in your hair,” Dean smirks, wrapping his arms lazily around Castiel’s neck.  
  
“I may have lost the snowball tournament,” Castiel admits with a sheepish grin.  
  
“You and Jo lost? No way! You guys are undefeatable,” Dean says, gently combing his fingers through Cas’ damp hair.  
  
“Benny is stepping up his game. But I’ll get him next time…” Cas trails off, the tiniest bit of annoyance entering his eyes the way it usually does in regarding Benny.  
  
“Still jealous after all this time?” Dean smiles teasingly at him.  
  
Castiel’s cheeks redden and he looks away. “Of course not. I was never jealous in the first place,” he says defensively. Dean chuckles and lifts Cas’ face so he can kiss his chilled lips.  
  
“I think it’s hot,” Dean murmurs seductively against Cas’ lips.  
  
Castiel snorts and pulls back. “What’s going on Dean?” Dean’s jaw clenches. Of course Cas would see past his flirtations.  
  
“What? Nothing,” Dean grunts, dropping his arms and turning back to cut up his peaches again.  
  
“That’s not true. You always flirt when you’re hiding something,” Castiel presses. Damn him. Sometimes it’s a curse that Castiel knows him so damn well. But he can’t actually tell Cas why he’s so nervous.  
  
“I just want today to go smoothly. A lot’s happened this year and… I dunno, it’d be nice to not have everyone go nuclear on each other today,” Dean says. It’s not a complete lie. He is nervous, as he always will be because nothing is ever apple pie and sunshine in his family.  
  
Dean feels Castiel set his hand reassuringly against his shoulder. “Everything will be fine, Dean. It’s already going better than last year. Stressing out about it won’t make it any better either.”  
  
And Cas is right. Everything is going better than last year and so much has changed since last Christmas. Although, things got really bad before they started getting better.  
  
After New Year’s, it was time for Dean and Sam to face John. It was as bad as anyone could’ve predicted. John was drowning himself in alcohol and was nothing but piss and vinegar.  
  
When they all got together for their first dinner since Sam left, it went terribly. Thankfully, Bobby was there to mediate and reel John in before he did anything regrettable. But it ended with another screaming match and this time, both Dean and Sam were kicked out of the house with John calling them ungrateful children who abandon family.  
  
Dean felt horrible. He blamed himself for everything that happened. And no matter how many times Castiel told him over the phone that none of it was his fault, he refused to listen. Dean officially moved out of the old house and moved in with Sam. It was a tight fit, but they both helped each other out.  
  
It was about a month that neither Sam nor Dean talked to John. Dean tried calling but John refused to pick up the phone. He still worked at the auto shop with Bobby, but John didn’t show up when Dean was working.  
  
Then they got the phone call mid-February. John had been in a serious car accident, t-boned by a semi because he drunkenly blew a red light. Dean and Sam rushed to the hospital and the doctors kept telling them to say goodbye, his time was coming.  
  
But John pulled through, which was a miracle in itself. He had to undergo major surgery, but he was healing. Dean tore himself up about the whole thing. He was convinced he could’ve avoided all of it and his father wouldn't be in such pain. Dean visited John almost every day in the hospital and slowly started to mend their relationship.  
  
Sam was a different story. Sam would visit, but one of them would start to butt heads and Dean would have to step in and calm them down. But it got worse when the time came for Sam to make his decision on going to Stanford. He'd already put it off because of the accident, but if he was still going to go, he had to act fast because the window of opportunity was closing. John was not happy to hear about this and the fight that started it all happened all over again, with Dean stuck in the middle.  
  
This time, however, Dean encouraged Sam to go. And look on Sam’s face when Dean finally said those words was priceless to him. He wished he told Sammy this sooner, because isn’t that what brothers do? They support each other. And he wanted Sammy to be happy more than anything.  
  
So Sam left with John telling him once again to never come back. Then it was just Dean and John.  
  
Dean felt so incredibly lonely with Sam gone and having to mend the broken pieces of his father. Everyone; Ellen, Bobby, Jo, Charlie and Benny all wanted to be there for him, but he didn’t want to drag them along. He didn’t want to burden them with his problems. And even though he talked to Cas every night on the phone or Skyped with him, it wasn’t enough. He felt so empty inside.  
  
Dean got a lot of surprise visits from his angel, which he was happy for, but it only added to his guilt. He felt terrible for making Cas drop his life in Arizona to comfort him in Kansas.  
  
By May, Cas was moved in with Dean. Even when Dean objected, saying it was too much to ask for, Castiel insisted it was alright, since Jess moved to California with Sam, he had nothing tying him to Arizona anymore.  
  
That’s when it started getting better. John was lightening up on the drinking and even called Sam once in a while to check in. Once, he asked Dean to take him to visit Sam but chickened out at the last minute, worried it would upset Sam more anything. But he was trying. He still wasn’t happy Sam left, but he was trying.  
  
Same goes for Castiel. When John found out Cas had moved in with Dean, he wasn’t having any of it. But he’s come to know Castiel and seemed to show in interest in his photography, which is something that still astounds Dean to this day.  
  
When summer came, despite John’s protests, Dean quit the body shop and started working with Ellen and Jo at The Roadhouse. If he was ever going to have his own restaurant, he had to start knowing the ins and outs of the business. And it made him much happier too. He enjoyed coming up with new ideas and experimenting with new food, as much as Ellen allowed, that is.  
  
Cas, on the other hand, started doing his own photography. People hired him for all sorts of occasions; weddings, retirement parties, anniversaries, and a hundred other things as well as his own photography. It made Dean so proud that Cas was finally doing this for himself and being able to express his artistic freedom. Because seeing Cas happy, next to Sam, was one of the best feelings Dean could have.  
  
So now, when Cas says things are better, he’s definitely right, but it doesn’t mean it’s all well and good yet. Dean knows all too well good things can shatter in a fleeting moment.  
  
“Hey Cas, I need your help!” Jess calls from the other room. Dean hears Castiel sigh behind him and he looks over his shoulder at him.  
  
“Go on. I’ll be fine. Just don’t worry about me for once, will ya?” Dean flashes a smile that he knows always flusters Cas.  
  
Castiel smirks before placing a soft kiss on Dean’s neck, which sends a shiver down his back and then he leaves calling, “Jess, why can’t you get Sam to help?” Dean chuckles, turning back to his peaches.  
  
Thankfully, no one else bothers him as he constructs the rest of the cobbler and slides it in the oven to bake.  
  
Sam stumbles into the kitchen with a dazed look on his face and this could only mean one thing.  
  
“Drunk already, Sammy?” Dean looks his brother up and down, noting he’s only wearing one shoe.  
  
Sam snorts, walking to fridge and grabbing a water bottle out of it. “No.”  
  
Dean raises his eyebrows. Okay, maybe Sam isn’t full out drunk, but he does look a little tipsy. “Sure, that’s why you’re missing a shoe.”  
  
Sam looks down and gasps. “She took my shoe too?”  
  
Dean smirks. That could only mean one thing; Charlie Bradbury. “So Charlie pulled one over on you already, huh?”  
  
Sam nods, eyes still wide from his discovery. “Her and Jo! They tag teamed me!”  
  
Dean bust of laughing and Sam gives him a dirty look. “It’s not funny, Dean!”  
  
“What did they do to you?” Dean asks, wiping a small tear from the corner of his eye.  
  
Sam takes a drink of his water, clearly not wanting to say, but he finally gives in. “They both beat me at poker.”  
  
Dean’s eyes widen. This is shocking. “What? Sam, Dad practically raised with one of the most important life skills; we never lose at poker.”  
  
Sam rolls his eyes. “Well, I lost and I don’t know how they _both_ beat me.”  
  
“So what’d they make you do?” Dean asks.  
  
Sam takes another long sip of water, still hesitant to share. “They made me chug two glasses of eggnog; one for each of them.” Dean raises his eyebrows. This doesn’t seem all that bad. “The eggnog _I_ made.”  
  
Dean holds in a laugh. This makes sense now. Everyone else makes their eggnog good, not too strong but enough to feel a buzz if you've had a couple glasses. Sam, on the other hand, goes crazy with the stuff. Dean doesn’t even understand why since Sam isn’t nearly as heavy a drinker as Dean. And every year when it’s Sam who makes the drink, everyone is sick or passed out drunk by their third glass.  
  
So now, given this history, it’s not surprising to Dean that Jo and Charlie are looking for a little justice.  
  
“I’m sorry, man. They got you good,” a smile escapes from him and Sam groans.  
  
“Don’t encourage them. They might make me drink a third.”  
  
Dean holds his hands up in surrender. “I ain’t messing with them. They’ll make me drink it too.”  
  
Sam laughs but then suddenly he’s serious. “Are you nervous?”  
  
Dean’s smile falls. Too bad Sam isn’t intoxicated enough to remember Dean’s plan. “Yeah. Very,” he murmurs.  
  
“Hey, don’t worry. It’ll all be fine,” Sam tells him, setting a hand comfortingly on his shoulder.  
  
“I know, but you never know.” Dean shrugs and Sam rolls his eyes.  
  
“Come on. Jess and Cas are putting together the gifts for White Elephant,” Sam says, walking back out to the living room.  
  
Dean takes a deep breath before following. The White Elephant game is a new thing Dean came up with for them. Everyone kept asking Dean what he wanted for Christmas even though he had a strict no present policy. So instead of real presents, he thought it would be more entertaining to give random ones that may or may not be useful instead.  
  
It works out great. Everyone gathers in the living room and each pick a present, then are allowed to either keep or trade their chosen gift with little arguments arising when someone steals the others’ present. It’s highly entertaining to watch Charlie battle Cas for his present and even better when Cas steals it back, giving Charlie the smuggest smile. Everyone has fun, even John. Dean sees him sneak a chuckle or two and it reminds Dean of when he was little; putting up a tough guy act when it came to Christmas stuff but secretly enjoying it all.  
  
Then it's time. Now is the moment. Dean stands up from the couch and walks over to Cas, who is kneeled down on the floor helping Jo scoop wrapping paper into a bag. He brushes his fingers against Cas’ shoulder and vibrant eyes look up at him with a smile.  
  
“Hello Dean.”  
  
“Hey Cas, can I talk to you?”  
  
Castiel’s smile drops for a moment, probably seeing the nerves that Dean can’t even begin to try and cover. “Sure.” He gets to his feet and Dean motions to outside. Cas frowns but doesn’t question him, only moving to pull on his trench coat and shoes and wrap the dark blue scarf around his neck. Dean does the same and follows Cas outside.  
  
It’s snowing. For a moment, Castiel’s eyes light up at the sight. “Look,” he whispers, his breath coming out in a little puff of white.  
  
Dean smiles. He will never get tired of the way Cas’ eyes light up when he sees something he loves or taken by. He lets Cas get his fill of taking in the falling snowflakes before he turns back to Dean. “Is something the matter?”  
  
Dean takes his hand and leads him into the center of the lawn where they have a perfect view of the tree in the living room window. Dean looks up at the house and Cas follows his gaze.  
  
“Did Ellen ever thank us for decorating her house this year?” Dean asks.  
  
Castiel laughs. “I don’t remember, but her house looks amazing, thanks to us.” Dean takes in the hodgepodge of decorations. It’s probably an eyesore to everyone else in the neighborhood, but it’s a style that Dean and Cas created just last year and he wouldn’t change a thing.  
  
“Isn’t it crazy?” Dean whispers, still looking at the multicolored lights.  
  
“I know.” Castiel muses, knowing exactly what Dean is referring to.  
  
Dean looks back to Castiel, watching him take in every little detail as if he was committing it all to memory. He rubs his thumb over Castiel’s knuckles and Cas turns to face him again, smiling at first but then it fades, concern replacing it. “Dean, are you sure you’re okay?”  
  
Dean laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t know. But I do know I wouldn’t be if it weren’t for you.”  
  
Castiel tilts his head to the side and squints his eyes suspiciously. Dean’s heart swells at the sight. “Dean Winchester, have you had too much of Sam’s eggnog again?”  
  
This makes Dean laugh even harder. “No, for once I haven’t.” His laughter subsides, but his smile remains as he continues. “Look Cas, I’m really happy that this is where we are now. If someone told me this time last year that this is where we’d be, I would’ve laughed and told them to get their head checked. Who knew that the guy who traded houses with my brother would be the one I fall for?”  
  
Castiel’s mesmerizing blue eyes watch Dean carefully, absorbing every word, every syllable, and a smile plays on his lips. “Who knew that the drunken stranger who used cheesy pick-up lines would be the one I fall for?”  
  
Dean winks but has to bite his lip to hide the ridiculous smile that wants to beam out of him. It’ll never get old hearing Cas say he loves him. “You’ve helped me through so much. Helped me in so many ways and, I know you think it’s cheesy or ridiculous that I say this, but I don’t care. You really are like an angel to me, Cas. You saved me when I didn’t think there was anything worth saving. And there’s no way I could ever repay for you that.”  
  
Castiel shakes his head, squeezing Dean’s hand in his. “There’s no need for repayment or thanks, Dean-”  
  
Dean rolls his eyes and cuts him off with a kiss. Castiel’s lips are warm and soft against his and Dean has to force himself to pull away. He can’t get distracted now. “But, I’d like to try. Cas, if you’ll let me, I’d like to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for everything you’ve ever done for me.”  
  
Castiel’s eyes widen, both confusion and knowing. “Dean, what are you saying?”  
  
Dean reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, dropping down on one knee in the snow. “What I’m saying is, Castiel Novak, will you marry me?” Dean flips open the box to reveal a small, silver band. It’s not much, but Dean knows Castiel would appreciate a ring pop as long as it came from Dean.  
  
Castiel shakes his head and pulls Dean up to kiss him. Dean kisses him back, his free hand wrapping around Cas’ waist and pulling him close. “Dammit Dean, only you would think you need to repay me back for anything,” Cas hisses against Dean’s mouth.  
  
“I do though.” Dean murmurs. He truly doesn’t understand how someone like Cas could love him for who he is, but he sure as hell isn’t going to let him down.  
  
“Dean Winchester, I am going to spend the rest of my life trying to convince you that you _are_ worthy. It’s _me_ who needs to thank you,” Castiel says.  
  
Dean smiles, pulling back to look into Cas’ sparking blue eyes. “Is that a yes?”  
  
Castiel laughs. “Of course, you assbutt.” And Cas presses his lips back to Dean’s. Dean feels like he’s floating among the clouds, heart soaring and head spinning. “I love you, Dean,” Cas whispers against Dean’s lips.  
  
“I love you too, angel,” Dean murmurs back, giving him one last tender kiss before pulling back and slipping the ring onto Cas’ finger.  
  
“You two are going to catch a cold!” Sam calls from the house and they both turn to see everyone gathered in the doorway, watching with excited grins.  
  
Dean laughs, taking Cas’ hand. “C’mon, we better get back inside.”  
  
When they do, they are met with a series of hugs and congratulations.  
  
“It’s about time, ya idjit,” is what Bobby tells Dean with a slap on the back and he laughs.  
  
“Yeah, I know Bobby.”  
  
“You better treat him well,” Jess warns him with a smile that isn’t very intimidating.  
  
“I could say the same for my brother.” Dean hugs her and she giggles.  
  
“Can you make it a Harry Potter themed wedding? Because that’d be so cool,” Charlie says with hopeful eyes, wrapping her arms around him.  
  
“Probably not,” Dean laughs, but hugs her tight.  
  
“I told you not to worry,” she whispers in his ear and he nods.  
  
“Yeah yeah, you were right, as always,” he rolls his eyes endearingly at her.  
  
“Hey brother, congratulations. Although, between you and me, I don’t think your fiancé likes me very much,” Benny laughs, slapping Dean on the back. Dean snorts, shaking his head.  
  
“He does in his own way, Benny. Don’t mind him though.”  
  
Sam is the last one to hug him and it’s the best one yet. “Congrats, Dean. You two are going to make each other very happy, as you have been all year long. I’m so proud of you.” Dean hugs his brother close.  
  
“Thanks, Sammy. You gotta get Jess now,” Dean chuckles.  
  
“I’m working on it,” Sam laughs quietly, looking adoringly over at Jess who is busy beaming and smothering Castiel with hugs.  
  
Dean pulls away and notices he hasn’t seen his dad. He looks over to see John standing off to the side, not interacting with anyone, just watching. He catches his gaze and nearly collapses when he sees John give a small nod of approval.  
  
Dean walks over to John. “Dad?” his voice his quiet because maybe he imagined the nod. Maybe his Dad is actually furious at him.  
  
“Son, seeing you with that boy is the happiest I’ve seen you since your mother died. I’m glad you found him.” Dean feels a sob of happiness rise in his throat but he swallows it down and simply wraps his arms around his dad. John hugs him back but breaks apart before it gets too long, but Dean doesn’t care. Things may never be perfect with his Dad, and Sam and Dean may always be at odds with him, but maybe it won’t be so bad now. Because there was a time where he thought John could never accept Castiel.  
  
“Thanks, Dad.”  
  
Castiel walks up to John and holds his hand out to shake it. Dean holds his breath but John doesn’t hesitate to take his hand this time, and shakes it firmly.  
  
A timer in the kitchen goes off and Ellen darts to check on the food. A few minutes later, she’s announcing dinner and everyone tramples over each other to get to the food. Everyone except Dean and Castiel.  
  
They stand in the empty living room, listening to the whining and arguments that are already breaking out over food floating from the kitchen. They both laugh, staring at each other.  
  
“Are you sure you want to be a permanent part of that?” Dean asks, motioning towards the sound of Sam and Jo and arguing over the mashed potatoes.  
  
“Why wouldn’t I?” Castiel laughs, pulling Dean in for a soft kiss. Dean strokes a thumb across the stubble on his cheek as his cradles his face. He pulls back and leans his forehead against Cas’.  
  
“Merry Christmas, Cas.”  
  
Castiel smiles, “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it!  
> Thank you guys so much for reading and leaving kudos. This was my first attempt at a multi-chapter fic and I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you guys enjoyed <3  
> Feel free to stop by and say hi :) [My tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


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